Homesick
by Daniel Lazerus
Summary: Simply stated, Hiroki is sick. "One of my OTP is ill/wounded/dying" is a common storyline, but here's my contribution to this archive. I will be bringing my own flavor into the piece. Enjoy... Previously located under Cerberus Revised's "A Thousand Words" series. It got too long for that compilation and will now be posted and completed as a stand alone fic. Rated "T" for now.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters.**

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**So, this was originally posted under Cerberus' "A Thousand Words" series, but it has turned into far more than a short and since I have been shifting all my fics around and doing this big revision as I repost, I decided to relocate it here.**

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Homesick: Chapter One

Nowaki was making breakfast in the kitchen after returning from another night at the hospital.

It had been two months since he'd returned from America and four weeks since he and Hiro-san had fully moved in together. He couldn't have been happier with the arrangements, even though between joining households and recently beginning his medical residency, both he and Hiroki were still learning how to navigate their new situation.

The young intern watched as Hiroki emerged from the bath, dressed and ready to head to the University. It had only taken six tries to wake Hiro-san up that morning. He held his smile in check, knowing that encountering a grin so early in the day would disconcert his grumbly lover.

He had quickly learned early on in their relationship that Hiroki was not a morning person, but dealing with that occasionally and dealing with it every day, he had fast become aware, were two different things entirely.

This morning though, it only took Nowaki a few moments observing Hiroki for him to tell immediately that something in Hiro-san was off (way more than normal, that was).

For one, his dear professor was clearly paler than usual and though Hiroki kept his face in the same serious mask he always did, Nowaki noticed that the spark which normally flared in his eyes whenever Hiro-san first saw him was absent.

Hiroki came and pulled out a chair at the table. He sat down quietly and watched as Nowaki brought several dishes out and arranged them on the table's cheerfully set surface.

Before he sat down himself, Nowaki stepped over and ran his long fingers through Hiroki's hair. He frowned slightly when Hiroki didn't pull away or protest this action.

"Good morning, Hiro-san."

The hand in Hiroki's hair lifted up his thick bangs as Nowaki pressed a kiss to the man's forehead. Beneath his lips, Nowaki noticed the furrow this action immediately provoked was clammy and hot.

Hiroki grunted slightly at this attention and shifted in his seat rather than bat him away as he would normally have done.

Nowaki went and took his place across from his lover, a look of concern on his face. Hiroki didn't seem to notice this though; he was flipping listlessly through a book he'd left on the table the previous evening.

After they said their usual quick blessing, the giant studied Hiro-san closely. He watched as Hiroki took smaller servings than usual and pushed them around with his chopsticks rather than tuck into them with his usual gusto.

"Hiro-san, are you okay?" Nowaki's tone was hesitant.

Hiroki lifted his bowed head in surprise at the question. He frowned.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you look a little pale and you don't seem like you're eating as much as usual."

Hiroki pushed his bowl away.

"I'm fine!"

The quickness of this assertion only made the falsehood of his reply immediately obvious. To try and cover this, Hiroki extended his lie further.

"I'm just not hungry. You know, I'm not used to eating breakfast every morning."

In truth, however, he had been feeling poorly since the previous afternoon. Midway through his late classes, he had become a bit nauseous and his stomach had been hurting him increasingly since then.

He had attributed this to stress initially. He had been worrying quite a bit lately about one of his more gifted students who was having a lot of personal issues and was considering dropping out of school.

This, on top of some recent administrative cock ups and all the drama and changes with Nowaki's return, had him ascribing these feelings to his pre-ulceric stomach acting up again, as it often did when he was worrying too much.

However, while it had started out feeling like that yesterday, this morning the pain had slipped down and was now tightly gripping his low belly.

Unwilling to discuss this and sound like some kind of alarmist or to subject himself to any more of Nowaki's sharp-eyed scrutiny, Hiroki rose up from the table.

Nowaki immediately noticed the wince his boyfriend tried to cover up as he stood.

"I'm going to school," Hiroki muttered, leaving his scant breakfast untouched on the table.

Nowaki rose and quietly followed him to the door.

"I didn't have time to make you lunch yet, Hiro-san. Do you want me to bring you something at noon?" Nowaki offered this, in part, because it would give him a chance to check on Hiroki later.

Hiroki bent to draw his shoes on and was surprised by the flare of pain this elicited.

"Don't worry about me. I'll pick something up on the way. You need your sleep, anyway, Nowaki." Hiroki frowned, knowing he sounded particularly annoyed as he tried to cover up how miserable he was feeling.

Once in his shoes, he picked up his work satchel and moved towards the door.

Nowaki moved in to kiss him again, but was thwarted by Hiroki raising his bag up as a shield.

Seeing the hurt look on Nowaki's face, Hiroki cleared his throat.

"If I was coming down with something… Which I'm not," Hiroki clarified, "You wouldn't want to get too close." This said, he turned, grabbed his coat off the hook, and headed for the door.

Nowaki followed him through the door and stood there silently in the open doorway as he watched Hiroki depart. He was more than a little concerned with how much more slowly than usual Hiro-san was walking but he didn't say anything or go after him.

Even though they had reconciled after that night in the library, Nowaki was well aware that Hiro-san still hadn't completely healed from his absence and that this was going to be a slow process.

This made their communication even more difficult at times and at moments like this, despite his worry, Nowaki was hesitant about pushing too hard.

He knew how much pride his professor had, and that if he pressed him any farther Hiroki would probably erupt badly, which wouldn't help him feel better at all. If anything, it would only bring added stress to Hiro-san's already taxing day and just make him feel worse.

Watching Hiroki disappear around the corner, Nowaki sighed.

He stepped back into the apartment and pulled his phone out of his pocket, setting the alarm in it for a few hours forward.

He was going to be sure and call Hiro-san in between classes just to make sure he was okay. Hopefully that wouldn't make him too mad and maybe Hiro-san would be feeling a little better by then.

Hiroki arrived at "M" University on time for his office hour, though just barely.

He was glad he had skipped breakfast since it had seemed to take him twice as long as usual to get to campus. He opened the office door and stepped in. As soon as the door was closed behind him, he staggered over to the raggedy couch that divided his side of the shared space from Miyagi's and sat down heavily.

Hiroki drew a deep breath, which only made his ache worse.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a pain. He rubbed an exploratory hand down his side and grimaced.

Maybe I pulled a muscle lifting a box of books or something.

He felt a blush rise to his already hot cheeks when he considered what other activities he'd engaged in recently that might have stretched something abnormally in his low abdomen: making up for their lost year, he and Nowaki had been particularly acrobatic of late with some of their positions.

Despite how he felt, this thought brought a slight upwards twist to his lips. While it was still awkward at times, it was so good to have Nowaki back in his life. Not that he'd ever admit this, of course.

As he shifted his position, the pain grabbed him again. He leaned his head back on the couch, closed his eyes and tried to will his discomfort down to a manageable state. He found that if he stayed perfectly still, he could keep the ache at a much lower level.

Hazel eyes shot back open when Hiroki heard the office door creak and a chipper voice call his name.

"Ka-mi-jou!" Miyagi trilled. "My sweet…." Miyagi's voice trailed off when he saw his junior.

"You look like shit." Moving over to his desk, Miyagi kept his keen gaze fixed on Hiroki, his usual mischievous glint significantly dimmed.

"Good morning to you too, Professor," Hiroki growled beneath his scowl.

"Oi, are you okay, Kamijou?" Miyagi's tone was surprisingly earnest.

Hiroki knew he must look pretty bad to elicit that response.

"I'm fine."

Miyagi pulled a cigarette from his pocket, grabbed a lighter from his desk and lit up.

"You don't look fine," he murmured around his smoke.

"Well, I am. I just need some analgesic!" Hiroki pushed himself slowly up from the couch and made his way painfully over to his desk to pull out the bottle he kept there for his frequent tension headaches.

Miyagi's expression became even more solemn watching Hiroki's movements.

"Maybe you should cancel your classes and go home."

Honestly the idea sounded incredibly appealing and Hiroki could only too clearly imagine the relief of reclining on his futon.

Then he remembered Nowaki was home. He didn't want the younger man to be fussing over him when he should be sleeping. It was important that Nowaki get adequately rested to be ready for his next shift at the hospital.

Fevered eyes flashed in Miyagi's direction. The look of concern on Miyagi's face only increased Hiroki's discomfort.

"I told you I'm fine!" Then Hiroki added a little less hotly, "Besides, I haven't cancelled a class since I started teaching and I'm not going to take up that habit today over a restless stomach."

Pills clutched in his hand now, he stepped clumsily away from his desk. Hiroki moved back over to the couch and picked up his book bag. He headed for the door.

"I'm going to my class."

"You have another half hour until it starts. Why don't you sit back down and rest until then?" Miyagi called after him.

"I need to write some notes up on the chalkboard," Hiroki lied. He stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind himself.

Looking down the student filled hallway, his classroom had never seemed so far away.

Hiroki wondered if it might not take him the whole twenty minutes just to get there.

He sighed.

This is going to be a hell of a day.

* * *

**Yeah, I know sick egoist has been done… but I plan to bring my own flavor to this common trope.**

**That's what all art is at this point in history, in my opinion, anyway: the inhalation and mastication of the past, partially digested, and regurgitated in some slightly different form… Heh.**

**Anyway, thank you for sticking with me through all my OCD renovations. Hope to hear from you, as always.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is to entertain my sweet ailing Black Flamingo. Kisses to you!**

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**Homesick: Chapter Two  
**

Nowaki was awakened by the sound of the phone ringing.

He automatically grabbed his cell on the nightstand before realizing it was the apartment's land line that was chiming. He considered allowing it to ring through to the answering machine, but then after another moment he pushed himself up off the futon with a yawn and padded out into the front room to answer it.

"Kamijou Kusama residence, Kusama speaking." Nowaki voice was still groggy; he rubbed his sleep-tousled, black head.

On the other end of the phone Miyagi's brow rose considerably. His hand unconsciously went to his throat.

His junior had made Kusama apologize to him formally after the young man had attacked him, so Miyagi knew full well who he was speaking with. Still he was surprised to learn that Hiroki was actually living with him.

_That certainly explains a lot._

"Eh… uh, Kusama-kun, this is Miyagi." Miyagi offered this uncomfortably; he could almost hear the other man's aura darken over the phone.

"Ah, hello, Sir," Nowaki said stiffly. He had apologized but still felt Miyagi had been in the wrong to try and kiss his Hiro-san.

"Look, I'm sorry to bother you but is Kamijou there?"

"No... He's not here Professor Miyagi. Hiro-sa… Kamijou-san teaches today. I would think you would know that." The temperature of Nowaki's tone had risen slightly, along with the level of curiosity it carried.

"Ah…I was afraid of that," Miyagi sighed.

"Look, Kusama–kun, Kamijou looked ill when he got to school today. I tried to send him home then, but he refused. I went to check on him after his first class when he didn't come back to the office right away. You see, we had this faculty meeting we were supposed to go to…"

Nowaki listened to Miyagi draw a breath as he inhaled on his cigarette. The young intern felt a sudden twist of unease in his stomach.

"So I went down to his classroom and Kamijou appeared even worse than he was when I'd first seen him.

"Anyway, I sent him home over an hour and a half ago. I offered to drive him in my car or call him a cab, but he refused. I mean he wouldn't budge.

"God that guy is stubborn!" Miyagi's concern was evident in his exasperation.

"Kamijou assured me he could take the train just fine… but like I said he looked really bad, so I was just calling to make sure he made it there okay. I tried to ring him on his cell a few times first, but he didn't answer."

Hearing Miyagi's words the twist in Nowaki's stomach quickly turned into a full blown knot. His pulse immediately quickened.

"Please excuse me, but I have to go, Professor Miyagi," Nowaki felt the adrenaline surge he got whenever an emergency case came in to the ward.

Miyagi surmised where Nowaki would be heading as soon as they hung up.

"I understand. Will you do me a favor, Kusama-kun, and let me know when you find him and if he's okay." He offered his cell number.

"Of course, Professor and thank you for letting me know, I really appreciate it." Nowaki's opinion of his lover's senior had just risen considerably.

He quickly typed the number Miyagi relayed into his cell phone. With that Nowaki hung up.

Not caring that he was just wearing sweats and a tee-shirt, Nowaki dashed to the entry, grabbed his jacket, and slipped into his shoes. He punched the auto dial to Hiroki's cell phone as he sprinted out the door.

* * *

Nowaki sped to the station where Hiroki usually caught the train to the University, praying that his lover would be there.

He'd tried calling half a dozen times on the way, but there was no answer. He wove agilely through the crowds at the station. Reaching the platform, he scanned up and down.

A wave of relief washed over him when he recognized Hiro-san on a bench to the side. Hiroki was slightly hunched over as he sat there looking at his phone.

The trip from the University had been almost more than Hiroki could bear. The train had been crowded, so he'd been forced to stand. The sway and the jostle of the packed car had been excruciating.

He had stumbled out of the train at his stop and all but collapsed on the bench, unable to go any further. He'd been waiting for some time now for the pain to subside as it had the last time he'd sat down, but it wouldn't relent and in fact seemed to be getting worse.

Since he had left the University, Hiroki had ignored Miyagi's calls when he'd seen his senior's name on the screen. He couldn't bear to speak to his senior: he was too embarrassed to acknowledge that Miyagi was right and he should have let the older professor drive him home or taken a cab.

He'd also ignored Nowaki's calls, though he'd wondered what the dumb-ass was doing, calling him when he should be sleeping. Hiroki didn't pick up, because he knew his voice would reveal his condition and that would just worry Nowaki needlessly.

_Besides I managed on my own for a year without Nowaki. Just because he's back now doesn't mean that I should suddenly go depending on him for every little thing._

Despite this thought though, amidst the mounting ache, Hiroki sat there wrestling with his pride, wondering if just maybe this one time he shouldn't call Nowaki back, or answer if the younger man called him again.

Hiroki grimaced as a he shifted slightly and a new blade of pain pierced him. If he could just give it a few more minutes to subside, he was sure he could probably make it the few blocks to the apartment.

His head jerked up sharply when he heard the unmistakable sound of Nowaki's voice call his name.

"Hiro-san?"

Nowaki was shocked by how poor Hiro-san looked. He was so pale and his cheeks were glazed with a thin sheen of perspiration.

He also saw the spark of relief in Hiroki's eyes, which then quickly flamed into irritation. But more than these, Nowaki also caught the unmistakable flicker of pain that burned brightly in his lover's hazel gaze.

Hiroki dropped his eyes to the floor knowing Nowaki had seen his weakness.

"What are you doing here, Nowaki?" He tried hard to keep his voice even.

"Professor Miyagi said he sent you home. He called the apartment to see if you were there yet. When I realized you should have been home a long time ago I came here hoping to find you, Hiro-san."

"I wish that troublesome guy would mind his own damn business," Hiroki growled. "Now he had to go and drag you into this!"

The truth was however, that while Hiroki was immensely relieved to see Nowaki, he was also suddenly more than a bit uneasy because his senior had called his home.

_Miyagi will know now that Nowaki and I are living together. As if his library knowledge wasn't enough... Fuck! I'll be doing his bidding forever.  
_

"Why didn't you answer your phone, Hiro-san?"

"Because I didn't want to okay!" Hiroki drew a shallow gasp as the exertion of his exclamation brought a fresh wave of pain with it.

"I'm fine really; I probably just ate something that doesn't agree with me." Hiroki offered, his tone much more subdued.

"Hiro-san, you're far from fine."

While he didn't want to admit it, Hiroki knew what Nowaki was saying was true.

"When did this start, Hiro-san?"

"Yesterday afternoon."

"And it's been getting worse since then?"

"Ummmm…"Hiroki conceded.

"And where does it hurt?" Nowaki asked kindly.

Hiroki wanted to find this sudden flash of bedside manner annoying, but in reality he really found Nowaki's presence had already made his discomfort diminish.

Without saying anything, Hiroki weakly waved his hand over his right side and low belly.

"Look, Nowaki," he muttered a few moments later, "I'm sure if I can just lie down at home I'll feel better soon."

"No, Hiro-san," Nowaki said firmly. "We're leaving here and I'm taking you to emergency."

Nowaki was feeling very convicted now that he hadn't pressed Hiro-san earlier about how the he was feeling. Especially if his lover was suffering from what he suspected.

"Can you walk?" he asked cautiously as he offered Hiroki his hand to help him up.

Hiroki regarded the outstretched paw suspiciously. Then grudgingly he took it as he gingerly lifted himself up. The pain as he did this made his breath come in shallow rasps.

Nowaki went to put his arm around Hiro-san to help support him, since Hiroki looked like he might topple over at any minute.

Hiroki pushed the arm away in one last attempt to preserve his dignity. "Of course I can walk, Dumb ass! I'm not some damsel in distress that needs to be carried."

Slowly Hiroki started moving forward, heading out of the crowded station.

Though he was slightly bent over, he remained stoic, his head held high, his face set in a grim mask of determination.

Nowaki slowed his pace and walked beside him, acting as a buffer, trying to keep the people milling around them from getting to close or bumping into him.

Hiroki made it three quarters of the way through the station, before he stumbled slightly against Nowaki. When this happened, Nowaki gently reached out and took Hiroki's arm that was closest to him and braced it with his own. With his other hand, he reached around Hiroki's back and placed a warm hand on his lover's shoulders propping him.

Hiroki scowled but he didn't say anything, and this time he accepted Nowaki's proffered touch. Now supported, he allowed himself to melt just a bit under the warmth of Nowaki's comforting arm.

Nowaki too remained quiet, as together they slowly worked their way out of the station.

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**Thank you for reading and reviewing**

**Props to: **Puppyfacetwo, Loopyhutton, Deathday1313, Blaysers, and Amaya Kawano for the favorites and alerts!

**Review Shout outs to:**

**Wragziez-** here's your answer. Nice to hear from you on another story!

**Blayers**- I love readers who review when they alert. Here's another chapter in thanks!

**Loopy Hutton**- Thank you for your faithful comments. Even one line makes my day.

**TBF 101**- My poor Baby Bird, so sorry you're unwell. I shall do my best to keep you entertained as you convalesce. Your reviews always make me feel immensely revived whatever my state.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, please forgive the long AN here:**

**So a quick disclaimer…**

Elements of this fic are combined from personal experiences from both my own and my family's medical history.

While I have tried to make this fic as accurate as possible, combining these experiences with internet research, I am not a medical doctor… nor do I have any medical background outside of CPR and basic first aid… one of the reasons I haven't endeavored this type of fic before.

Last, the medical system described here is undeniably Western/American.

I am too unfamiliar with the medical establishment in Japan. Even with research I was afraid of being culturally inaccurate, so I am writing what I know. This said, I ask my foreign readers to please grant me a little leniency if my details don't jive with your medical experiences.

And even with my extensive personal experience of the medical system in the US, I have taken a few liberties... So know that, please, before you point out all this story's shortfalls.

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**Homesick: Chapter Three**

It took a bit to get Hiroki into the cab Nowaki hailed outside the train station; the walk from the platform to the curb had greatly increased his pain.

Nowaki directed the cab driver to take them to the Tokyo Kosei Nenkin Hospital. Though there was another hospital a bit closer to their apartment, this was the one he was doing his residency at, so he was more familiar with both the facilities and the staff and he would be able to be close by if Hiroki was admitted.

Once Nowaki managed to get Hiroki settled, he continued to gently grill his lover while his keen blue eyes observed him with mounting concern.

Hiroki sat there, head back against the seat, eyes closed, his breathing shallow, answering questions far more willingly than Nowaki ever expected. Nowaki was unaware, however, that Hiroki was doing so because it helped distract him from the pain.

Halfway to the hospital Hiroki's breathing finally evened out. Seeing this, Nowaki gratefully gathered Hiro-san's hand in his own.

Hiroki turned his head slightly and opened one hazel eye to regard Nowaki. Then he closed it and turned his head back slowly.

Nowaki offered a quiet breath of relief when Hiro-san didn't grumble about this bit of PDA and his hand remained in his, unmoving, outside a weak squeeze of acknowledgment.

Nowaki raised his eyes just in time to catch a disapproving sneer from the cab driver, who'd been watching them in the rearview mirror. Nowaki met the cabbie's eyes evenly, challenging him to say something, until the driver finally dropped his gaze uncomfortably, and looked away.

By the time they'd reached the hospital, Hiroki seemed to have revived a bit, though he still had difficulty getting out of the cab.

He handed Nowaki his wallet on their arrival so Nowaki could pay the driver. (Nowaki had been in such a hurry to find Hiro-san, he'd left their apartment without grabbing his own.)

Hiroki looked up at the hospital's imposing structure as the cab pulled away.

"I'm feeling better. Nowaki. Do we really need to make all this fuss?"

"Yes, Hiro-san," Nowaki said firmly. "Are you going to be okay standing there for a minute while I get you a wheelchair?"

Hiroki scowled. "I don't need a wheelchair."

"Hiro-san, I don't want you moving any more than you have to. I think you already have been far more active than you should have been." Nowaki stated this calmly. Then his voice took on a far sterner tone than Hiroki was accustomed to.

"Now either you can ride in the wheelchair, Hiro-san, or I'm going to pick you up and carry you into the waiting room like that damsel you mentioned earlier."

"You wouldn't do that," Hiroki snorted.

He was shocked at the heat in Nowaki's eyes.

"Try me."

After remaining silent a moment longer than was necessary to demonstrate his disapproval at being ordered around by someone so much younger, Hiroki sighed deeply.

"Fine."

A minute after he disappeared, Nowaki returned with a wheelchair and Hiroki sank down into it feeling far more grateful for the contraption than he let felt himself blush, however, as Nowaki moved behind and began pushing him.

"I imagine you've been waiting for this moment."

Nowaki stopped short. "What do you mean, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki tipped his head back to regard Nowaki.

"I know you've been wanting to push me around for years." His eyes were still pained, but there was a bit of a humorous glint in them, despite his serious expression.

Nowaki ran a tender hand through Hiroki's damp hair.

"Now I know it's serious, Hiro-san, when _you _start cracking jokes."

"Shut up, Dumb-ass," Hiroki muttered without malice.

* * *

Despite his protests, Nowaki checked Hiroki in. He also ran through all of his symptoms with the nurse whose duty it was to float the waiting room interviewing patients to expedite the diagnostic process and prioritize admittance to the E.R. examination rooms.

Hiroki was both surprised and pleased with how professional Nowaki was in discussing his case with the nurse.

He also noted how responsive she became when she realized she was dealing with another medical professional (either that or she was reacting to the general "Kusama Effect" Nowaki seemed to have on women).

Not long after this another nurse called Hiroki's name to usher him back to the examination rooms.

Hiroki looked at Nowaki in surprise when the younger man stood up and started pushing the chair along the smooth tiled floors.

"What are you doing Nowaki?"

"I'm going back with you, Hiro-san," Nowaki answered simply.

"What? Why? I can do this myself." Then Hiroki added nervously, "I'm a full grown man, you know… I mean won't it look _weird_ you coming with me. Two men together, I mean."

"I don't care how it looks, Hiro-san; you're my family and I'm staying with you."

Hearing the resolve in Nowaki's voice, Hiroki ducked his head and blushed, knowing that any further protests he might offer would fall on deaf ears.

* * *

The nurse ushered the couple into a small room and gave Hiroki a hospital gown which he reluctantly changed into. Now awaiting his first interview with one of the ER doctors, he lay on his back, grateful to be reclining.

Still, he was far from comfortable, as while he had been waiting to be seen, the pain that had so mercifully eased a bit earlier was gradually tightening its grip on him again.

He gazed up at the acoustical tiled ceiling intently while he worried his bottom lip with his teeth.

He was studiously trying not to look over at Nowaki. The younger man sat silently next to him, head down, solemnly studying his clasped hands in his lap.

The anguish of his flesh was not the only pain Hiroki was now laboring under.

Everything had been going well, as well as it could given the circumstances anyway... Until...

* * *

Nowaki filled out Hiroki's paperwork for him while he changed.

He was shocked at how little he knew about Hiro-san's medical history. He felt guilty that, despite the dire circumstances, he found himself oddly happy: all the questions asked by the forms were giving him a rare opportunity to learn more about his generally private partner.

This was the first time he'd heard that Hiro-san had badly broken his wrist doing kendo late in high school, thus ending his participation in that activity and affecting his piano playing as well.

He'd also never known that Hiroki's father's side of the family had a history of cancer. He felt his chest catch when Hiroki revealed that this had started with his great grandparents and their children, most likely the result of living within the proximity of Hiroshima's horror.

Going over this background, it also gave Nowaki a twinge in his heart, considering whenever he had to fill out these kinds of forms, all the family history sections forever remained blank.

Setting this to the side, Nowaki continued going through the list of Hiroki's health history.

He had just learned that Hiroki had been diagnosed with his pre-ulceric stomach in early college. Then traveling further down the checklist, Nowaki asked casually:

"Have you ever been diagnosed with or been at risk of exposure to HIV. If applicable please indicate the date and result of your last HIV test."

Nowaki knew Hiroki had been more than a little active before they met, though he never asked questions about this part of his partner's past.

"So when was your last test, Hiro-san?"

"July, negative," Hiroki offered without thinking as he slipped stiffly into his gown.

"Yes, but what year, Hiro-san?"

The ache in his gut clouded Hiroki's mind. He was too busy wondering when the doctor would get there or if someone might be able to give him something for the pain soon to think before he answered.

"This year, Idiot." Hiroki sighed, settling himself into the hospital bed.

"But why would you?...

"Oh."

Nowaki suddenly stopped writing. That was four months ago. Two months before he'd returned from America.

Hiroki stared into Nowaki's sad eyes, realizing what he'd just inadvertently disclosed. He dropped his gaze blushing furiously.

"Nowaki, I… I mean I'd been waiting nine months and I didn't know where you were or if you were ever coming back…"

Seeing the hurt this caused Nowaki pained Hiroki far more than all the combined discomfort of the last twenty-four hour hours.

"Nowaki, it was just a one night thing, it meant nothing…" Hiroki knew how lame this sounded. "I mean, didn't you…" his voice took on a slightly angry tone in defense.

"No, Hiro-san. I didn't," Nowaki said softly, dropping his own eyes.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Hiroki cleared his throat.

"Look now I've changed, I can fill the rest of that out myself." He reached out for the clipboard. However, he was unable to keep all the tremble out of his fingers.

If Nowaki had noticed this he didn't show it. He'd just handed the intake forms to Hiroki wordlessly, sat back in the chair he was occupying next to the bed, folded his hands in his lap, and had remained in that pose since.

* * *

At last Hiroki couldn't stand the silence any more, he who was used to cherishing it. He glanced over at Nowaki.

Feeling the weight of the other man's eyes on him, Nowaki looked up hesitantly.

"Nowaki…"

Just then there was a tap on the wall outside the curtained entrance. The curtain slid back and a bright looking middle aged man poked his head into the room.

"Kamijou-san? I'm Dr. Souichi." the doctor offered a slight bow once he'd entered.

"So what seems to be troubling you?"

_A lot more than when I first got here, _Hiroki thought wearily.

* * *

**Yes, Another long AN: **

**A Public Service Announcement Brought to you by Daniel Lazerus... (Heh)  
**

If you have been in a situation... male or female... where you might be at risk for HIV... (Essentially any time after unprotected sex- oral, vaginal or anal-outside a committed monogamous relationship) you should get tested (and not just HIV but for any number of STD's).

And now they have those handy dandy take home HIV tests like _Oraquick_… So no excuses…

_Current HIV tests detect the presence of HIV antibody. HIV antibody is your body's response to the presence of HIV virus. _

_In most persons it takes a few weeks to develop antibodies that are detectable by current tests. 95% of people develop antibodies within 3 months after being infected. _

_It is recommended that people take a second test in 6 months, because 99% of those infected will develop antibodies within 6 months. _

_A positive test is positive no matter when the test was. A negative test becomes more and more a true and accurate result the longer after the possible exposure._

information taken from the _San Francisco City Clinic_ website.

So technically, Hiroki should have had a more recent test (three months from that night) and... as a responsible partner he should have also told Nowaki about the possible risk of infection despite the fact his last test was negative.

But this is fiction... so I am not holding to this timetable in this story. Just didn't wish to be the purveyor of misinformation.

* * *

**Anyway, ah… so I thought a little angst to go with the illness would be a nice combo. You know how I love me some angst.**

**I'm so mean.**

**Illness revealed next chapter. FujoshiNinjaNumber6... Yep, I believe you're correct.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Homesick: Chapter Four**

* * *

Hiroki looked at the doctor dumbly for a moment. Then he looked at Nowaki.

He didn't want to waste his precious words talking to some stupid physician; not that he'd really known what it was he'd fully intended to say to Nowaki.

Nowaki gazed back at him sadly before dropping his eyes.

Suddenly a new wave of pain gripped Hiroki, strong enough that he was momentarily distracted from his moral dilemma. His eyes sought Dr. Souichi.

"My stomach hurts."

"And can you show me where it hurts, Kamijou-san?"

Hiroki waved a weak hand around the general vicinity of his pain.

"And how long has this been going on?"

"Since yesterday."

Hiroki grimaced; a shiver shook his lean frame. He'd felt hot when he'd first entered the hospital, but now he was growing increasingly cold.

"That's not entirely true," Nowaki softly interjected.

"You said in the cab your stomach had been having pains off and on for about a week."

Dr. Souichi looked over at Nowaki. "And you are?"

Nowaki had stood when the doctor had entered the room. He bowed to Souichi and offered, "I'm Kusama Nowaki. Hiro, I mean Kamijou-san's roommate.

"Kamijou-san told me on the ride here that he'd been feeling discomfort off and on for about a week, though much more mildly," Nowaki explained.

"Then yesterday afternoon he began to feel very nauseous.

"The pain started in earnest last night and originally he thought it was digestive, but the discomfort has migrated to his middle and lower right quadrant and has been getting worse progressively since.

"He was also running a slight fever earlier this morning."

The doctor cocked is head slightly at the calm and succinct manner with which young man before him offered this information. He turned his head back to Hiroki.

"Is this accurate, Kamijou-san?"

Normally Hiroki would have been furious with Nowaki 's speaking for him, but he was feeling increasingly dizzy and was actually relieved that he didn't have to try and string the words together to explain.

Even now, rather than exert the effort of a verbal confirmation he just nodded.

"And the pain has been consistent?"

"He mentioned that he felt a bit better on the ride here, but the pain has been come back more strongly recently." Nowaki moved closer to Hiroki's bed. Hiro-san hadn't told him this last part, but Nowaki had felt his partner's increasing distress beyond the unease caused by their recent uncomfortable conversation.

As hurt as he was by what he had just learned, Nowaki knew a good doctor would not allow himself to be ruled by his emotions and right now Hiro-san was very ill and needed his help.

"Any vomiting?"

"I retched some last night," Hiroki admitted; his voice was shaky. "But since I hadn't eaten anything, nothing came up."

Nowaki frowned at this new information.

"Then what happened to your dinner, Hiro-san? I didn't see the plate I made you still in the fridge this morning."

Hiroki studied a spot on the wall in front of him. His increasingly pale skin took on a light flush.

"I hid it at the bottom of the bin," Hiroki mumbled.

He was mortified, not only because of the forced revelation of this second bit of deception, but also because he knew how strongly Nowaki felt about wasting food.

"Why, would you do that?" Nowaki was stunned by this admission.

"Because I knew you'd worry about me not eating otherwise," Hiroki said softly.

"I see…" Dr. Souichi interrupted the conversation, looking back and forth between the pair.

Both men shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

Ignoring this, Souichi stepped up closer to Hiroki.

"Alright, Kamijou-san, I'm just going to palpate your abdomen a bit.

"You tell me if it's tender. Okay?" The doctor frowned when he immediately felt the hardness of Hiroki's belly beneath his fingers.

He and Nowaki both started when at his first gentle probing Hiroki cried out.

"Fuck!"

Hiroki pushed the Souichi's hands away and curled into himself.

Nowaki was shocked by Hiroki's response. While, it was not that uncommon for Hiro-san to curse under his breath or in the privacy of their apartment, the man had always tightly controlled his language in public.

Nowaki was so concerned, he completely disregarded the fact the doctor was right there.

"Hiro-san…" Nowaki murmured. He stepped up and gently brushed a damp lock from Hiroki's forehead. He immediately noticed that his lover's skin was still clammy but oddly cool now.

As Souichi stepped back closer to his patient, Hiroki gasped, "Please, no more!"

Souichi's face became grave hearing this: he'd hardly touched the young man curled up on the bed.

Just then a nurse arrived with the results of the blood work she'd taken when Hiroki had first arrived.

The doctor took the charts and glanced over them. Then his gaze shifted over to where Nowaki was gently stroking Hiroki's hair.

Hiroki kept his head bowed, avoiding Nowaki's eyes.

"Nowaki, I'm cold."

Nowaki's expression was solemn. He could hear his lover's teeth start to chatter.

"Souichi-sensei, I think Hiro-san might be going into shock."

The doctor looked up from the charts, he'd just noted that Kamijou-san's white count was highly elevated.

He called the nurse back immediately.

"Let's get some warm blankets on him. I want an IV and some morphine started a.s.a.p. Call down to radiology and tell them we need an emergency C.A.T. scan!"

Dr. Souichi looked at Nowaki curiously.

"I'm an intern here in pediatrics," Nowaki offered humbly, in answer to the man's unspoken question.

Souichi's brows rose appreciably.

"But that's not all you are, is it?" He asked pointedly.

Nowaki stepped away from the bed reluctantly as the nurse returned with the blankets followed by another technician who was there to start the IV.

"I'm also Kamijou-san's boyfriend," Nowaki admitted.

Hiroki's troubled gaze shifted between the two medics, uneasy about how the older doctor would respond to this information. In the past his experiences with medical professionals regarding his sexuality had not always been pleasant.

"Ummmm," Souichi hummed noncommittally.

"So, normally I would say that we are most likely dealing with an appendix issue. But please forgive me, Kamijou-san, I have to ask... You were the recipient of anal penetration recently?"

Nowaki jumped in.

"We're both versatile."

While this wasn't really information that Souichi needed, nor was it necessarily entirely an accurate depiction of their particular dynamics, seeing the look on Hiro-san's face when he was asked the question had caused Nowaki to offer this in an attempt to save his partner's pride.

Hiroki's pain-weary eyes gazed at Nowaki appreciatively. He felt a glaze of tears spread over them at this kindness considering what Nowaki had learned just such a short time before.

"Yes, we're regularly active," Hiroki offered unapologetically, drawing strength from Nowaki's example.

He sighed deeply as the narcotics the tech had introduced intravenously just moments ago almost immediately began to blunt the sharp edge of his pain.

"Ah, well, then you see it could also be peritonitis brought on by a perforation in the rectal lining." Souichi offered. "Particularly if… ahem… something other than digits or a penis was involved.

Neither man responded to this immediately, confirming to Dr. Souichi that the couple most likely experimented with "toys" as well.

"But we're always very careful," Nowaki finally said with a frown.

"Well, it doesn't take much, as I am sure you know, Kusama-san. You can tear the tissue there without even any significant external evidence of bleeding and infection sets in quickly."

"You think Hiro-san has peritonitis?"

"Yes, given the symptoms, the results of the blood work, and the rigidity of his lower abdomen. I think it's highly likely… Whatever the cause," Souichi acknowledged.

Hiroki looked between the two medics; his expression was slightly hazy now and more than a little confused.

"Kamijou-san, can you tell me the last time you ate or drank anything?" Souichi asked kindly.

"Tea this morning," Hiroki's low voice had grown thick from the narcotics.

"Anything solid?"

"Lunch yesterday."

Souichi looked back to Nowaki.

"Well that's helpful. The C.A.T. scan will tell us if it is his appendix or not.

"Given the indications of peritonitis we will probably have to go in and rinse out his abdominal cavity anyways. But since he hasn't eaten anything we're safe to do anesthesia for emergency surgery. This shock worries me, however."

"Surgery?"

Hiroki's hazel eyes looked dazed, beyond the shock or the drugs.

Souichi nodded at this and then his attention turned back to Nowaki.

"Kusama-san, how about I give you a minute alone with Kamijou-san while I go and finalize some details here?"

Nowaki nodded solemnly.

"Surgery?" Hiroki mumbled again.

He'd always been so healthy, outside the rare cold or a few physical injuries from the athletic activities he engaged in. It was hard for him to understand how his whole world could suddenly shift so quickly.

"It'll be okay, Hiro-san. You'll see," Nowaki comforted, trying not to think about all of the things that could possibly go wrong. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Hiroki's forehead.

Nowaki straightened as another nurse came in to get Hiroki and wheel him in his emergency room bed, down to radiology.

Hiroki caught Nowaki's hand and looked up.

"Nowaki, would you do me a favor?" his voice was almost hesitant.

"What, Hiro-san?"

"Would you call my mother and tell her what's happening… I mean not the anal sex thing, but the appendix stuff?" Hiroki said this surprisingly easily, thanks to the drugs.

"Of course, Hiro-san."

"My phone is in my jacket pocket. My mom is listed as _Pest One_," Hiroki offered, a splash of color enlivening his pale cheeks.

"Pest One?"

"Ummmm… Miyagi is _Pest Two_, Akihiko is _Pest Three_."

Nowaki knew this was not the time, but somehow it pleased him that Akihiko was listed third. That was at least until a terribly disconcerting thought occurred to him.

"Hiro-san, how am I listed?"

Hiroki's pale brow furrowed.

"As Nowaki, Dumb-ass. How else would you be listed?"

Nowaki could tell by the tone in Hiroki's voice, the man was adopting a false bravado to reassure him.

"Um… one more thing, Nowaki."

"What, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki looked at Nowaki and his dark eyes were earnest.

"I'm sorry."

Nowaki ran a gentle hand across Hiroki's forehead, trying to smooth away his lover's worried furrow.

"We'll talk about it later. Okay, Hiro-san?" He said kindly. Then seeing that this did nothing to alleviate the older man's anxiety, he leaned down and kissed Hiroki tenderly on the lips.

"I love you, Hiro-san."

Those three words brought a flash of relief to Hiroki's eyes.

"Me too," Hiroki muttered softly. "I love you, Nowaki."

As the nurse, undid the lock's on the bed's wheels, Hiroki squeezed Nowaki's hand tightly.

Nowaki stood there silently and watched Hiroki get wheeled away.

Once Hiro-san was gone, Nowaki went back to the chair he'd previously occupied and sat down heavily. He lifted Hiroki's coat off the back of his chair and dug the phone from its pocket.

Nowaki looked at the clock on the wall and sighed.

He settled into his seat preparing for the long wait ahead. He thought of what he had just learned about Hiro-san.

While, he now he had time to think about the situation, one thing he knew already without a doubt was that when he told Hiro-san he loved him, he meant it.

Nowaki flipped his lover's ancient cell phone open.

He had never used Hiro-san's cell before… It was just one of those little extremes of privacy Hiroki dictated.

He found himself drawn back to what Hiro-san had said. And as much as he wanted to believe it, given what he'd learned, Nowaki wondered if Hiro-san really did love him too?

Maneuvering to Hiroki's contacts, Nowaki was shocked to see that not only was he listed by his name, as opposed to title, which seemed to be how Hiro-san designated the rest of his contacts (Hiroki had twenty numbered entries simply listed as" bookstore"), but also that Hiro-san had put a lone "a" in front of his name so that it appeared at the top of his contact list.

Nowaki smiled softly at this, amazed at how such a simple thing suddenly filled him with a warm and quiet assurance.

Then he scanned down to "Pest One" and prepared to call and talk with his lover's mother for the first time in the six years he and Hiro-san had been together.

* * *

**Another long-assed AN: **

_"Peritonitis is a bacterial or fungal infection of the peritoneum, a silk-like membrane that lines your inner abdominal wall and covers the organs within your abdomen. Peritonitis can result from any rupture (perforation) in your abdomen, or as a complication of other medical conditions._

_This requires prompt medical attention to fight the infection and, if necessary, to treat any underlying medical conditions. Treatment of peritonitis usually involves antibiotics and, in some cases, surgery. Left untreated, peritonitis can lead to severe, potentially life-threatening infection throughout your body." (the mayo clinic. com)_

Peritonitis can be the result of a ruptured appendix but the possibility of peritonitis from anal penetration is true. Usually this is more common when object penetration (sex toys, bottles, other objects) perforate the rectum, however, while rare, perforation caused by penile penetration has been reported. And it only takes a minute perforation of the rectum for dangerous bacteria to be introduced into the abdomen.

And despite how easy our porn culture makes anal sex appear, just so you know, the interior tissue in your anal canal is described as having the consistency of wet paper towel (hopefully not the bargain kind) and without proper lubrication or rough handling, it tears quite easily. This can also lead to infections and fistulas, or a weakening of the rectal walls.

These uplifting tidbits come from _The Ins and Outs of Gay Sex_ by Dr. Stephen Goldstone (who is himself gay).

If you know a gay man, I can't recommend this text highly enough. It should be required reading. Yeah... It's filled with some pretty daunting horror stories, but also answers a lot of the questions guys don't want to ask their doctors...

Now I know some might take issue with this information and say, then what about something like fisting?

Fisting is something that takes time to work up to and should only be done with someone who has been experienced and will respect individual limits. Even then, no physician would **ever** consider this a safe sexual practice and the long term consequences of such activity can be profound.

Also, keeping that paper towel analogy in mind, and while I know that lube is hardly sexy... all those dry FF fucks with no lubrication... not to ruin your fiction... (They're a pet peeve of mine.) An ass is not a vagina and does not lubricate itself. So yeah... lubeless anal sex: painful, dangerous, and completely unrealistic.

**And this has been your Lazerus Public Service Announcement for today. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

**Thanks to Asdfghjklove, KlaineEternalLovers, Lionfish13, Kitkat3195, JaniceP, Hiyokocchi, Jackattack456, Ralandia, and Lavanter37 for the alerts and favorites!**

**Asdfghjklove- So wonderful to hear from you. Glad to have you along again and it is this very fic that contains the lovely and traditional Lady Kamijou.**

**Lakeofstars- I am sorry that you have had Hiroki's experience. Glad you made it through. I'll try and get him to recovery asap so you don't have to endure too many flashbacks.**

**Lionfish- Always a pleasure to hear from you. Oh, and "movie" and "film"... Well amongst myself and my peers "film" is reserved for artful productions, "movies" for those of more dubious cultural merit. Yes, we're a pretentious lot at times.**

**Kitkat3195- Yes, take charge Nowaki is sexy and yes, the Egoists will have much to discuss later... And we all know what great communicators they are.  
**

**JaniceP- Hooray! Long time, stranger! You'd make a great diagnostician.**

**MidoriTenchi90- Querida, I've missed you. Good to see you again too.**

**Hirokocchi- It is severe, poor man. I am a very cruel author.**

**Loopyhutton- Lovin' you, little faithful.**

**FujoshiNinjaNumber6- Well, is this what you had? I mean, the appendicitis, not the other.**

**TBF101- Hope you're feeling even better, Sweet Bird! Yes, pride is a big issue for me. *Cough* I mean in my fics... Heh. Germ free kisses to you.**

**Wragziez- As long as it's only half the time. *wink***


	5. Chapter 5

**Homesick **

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Nowaki sat in the empty room looking at Hiroki's "Pest One" contact. His thumb hovered over the call button. Then Nowaki sighed.

He closed out of that entry and pulled up "Pest Two."

"Kamijou?" Miyagi answered, obviously having seen his junior's information pop up.

Nowaki was startled by the amount of concern Miyagi was able to impart into this single word.

"No, Professor Miyagi," Nowaki's tone was apologetic. "This is Kusama, I'm calling from Kamijou-san's phone."

"You found him then?"

"Yes."

"Why is it I find the fact you're calling from his phone increases my anxiety rather than relieves it, Kusama-kun?" Miyagi asked cautiously.

"Kamijou-san's very sick, Professor.

"I'm at the hospital with him now and they're running some tests. But I can tell you I feel quite confident that he's going to be unable to teach for a while."

Nowaki heard Miyagi breathe a deep sigh on the other end of the phone.

"Any idea what's wrong with him, Kusama-kun?"

"Appendix most likely."

"Poor bastard," Miyagi clucked sadly. "Look, Kusama-kun, I'll call the dean and let him know what's going on.

"And I'll see what I can do to make sure Kamijou's classes are covered.

"Tell him too, when you're able, not to worry about anything. Despite all his assertions, I can be competent on occasion… Miyagi joked trying to lighten the situation. "I just don't like to make a habit of it,"

"Thank you so much, Professor Miyagi, I know Hiro… Kamijou-san will greatly appreciate your consideration."

Nowaki hesitated. "As do I, Sir… Thank you."

On the other end of the phone Miyagi cleared his throat, uneasy with the gratitude he heard expressed in Nowaki's voice.

"Well, it's really just because I need him to get his ass back here," he grumbled.

"After all, who else is going to do my work for me?"

Nowaki smiled at Miyagi's efforts to dismiss his obvious distress over his junior's situation. He was shocked, however, when Miyagi asked, "How about you, Kusama-san? Is there anything you need?"

The young intern was genuinely touched by the question and the earnestness in the professor's voice. "No, Professor," Nowaki said softy, "but thank you for asking."

"Yeah, well look… if in the future there is, please let me know.

"And I know you will be very busy with Kamijou until you get everything sorted out, but if you think of it, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't mind giving me a call from time to time to update me on how things are going," Miyagi said uncomfortably.

"I'll be sure and do that, Professor."

After Nowaki ended the call, he pulled up Hiroki's mother's contact again.

_What am I going to tell her? _

Nowaki still felt confident the C.A.T. scan would show it was appendicitis but the thought that he might have inadvertently hurt Hiro-san during one of their "intimate times" ate at him unmercifully.

He always tried to be careful when he and Hiroki coupled, though if was hard for him to hold back sometimes.

But since he'd returned and they'd made up, while they might still be tentative in other aspects of their relationship, in the sexual arena he and Hiro-san had been voracious. Some nights found them each clinging to the other's flesh as if it would disappear if one of them let go.

This got Nowaki considering what Hiroki had said after the admission of his one night stand.

_Hiro-san honestly didn't know where I was or if I was coming back. _

It was true, after that one conversation with Hiro-san about the opportunity to go abroad and study, he hadn't spoken of it again before he left Japan.

_Well, not to Hiro-san anyway. _

He had called the orphanageto let Mama Kusama know he wouldn't be coming out to see the children anymore for a while. He'd also contacted all his various employers.

Nowaki remembered how painful those last few weeks prior to his leaving had been.

Hiroki was so immersed in his thesis they'd hardly been spending any time together. Though actually this had seemed for the best, since Nowaki could hardly bear to be near his lover at that point.

He hadn't even left and already he'd been desperately missing Hiro-san.

The last night they'd had together he had taken Hiroki with such desperate, frantic passion it had left them both breathless.

In the end he had slipped out while Hiroki, completely spent, was still sleeping having never said "good bye."

Though he'd wanted to confess his plans at every moment, Nowaki had remained silent, knowing it would have only take the slightest frown or flicker of sadness in his lover's dark eyes and he would have immediately thrown all his plans to the side.

Considering Hiro-san's devotion to his studies and all he had sacrificed to achieve his dreams, would he have been able to respect him if he'd done that?

Nowaki didn't think so.

If he'd allowed his love to divert him like that Nowaki had feared too that he would never have any chance of being perceived as an equal by Hiroki someday.

On another level, Nowaki had been secretly afraid too that if he told Hiro-san of his plans, his lover might not have reacted all. He based this in part on Hiro-san's casual response in the coffee shop the first time he had mentioned leaving

Hiroki had been so busy, in fact, Nowaki had worried that he might actually have been relieved by his absence. If that had happened Nowaki didn't think he could have borne it.

A similar thing had occurred when he was in America and had written all those letters.

Again, Nowaki hadn't sent them because if Hiro-san had responded he wouldn't have been able to keep himself from rushing back to Japan

But while he eventually told Hiroki this what he hadn't told him was that there was another reason he hadn't sent them.

He was too fearful that Hiro-san hadn't even missed him.

Nowaki had his own sense of pride, though it wasn't as overt as Hiroki's and the idea of Hiro-san laughing over his sappy letters, possibly considering them another instance of his immaturity had also stilled his hand from dropping his missives into the post.

Now he was back, Nowaki realized how unfair his actions had been.

Given the circumstances Hiroki's actions seemed perfectly justifiable.

In fact, given what little he had gleaned about his boyfriend's earlier years, Nowaki supposed he actually should have been surprised that Hiro-san hadn't done something like that much earlier.

_Damn, I wish I had sent those letters._

Nowaki was so lost in his thoughts he didn't realize how much time had passed. The curtain outside the door of Hiroki's room rustled and Dr. Souichi stepped in.

"Kusama-san."

Nowaki looked up and felt his stomach clench at the serious expression on the physician's face.

"Yes?"

"The results of the C.A.T. scan shows Kamijou-san's appendix has ruptured." Dr. Souichi's tone was grave.

"They're prepping him for emergency surgery right now."

"So it's not the other?" despite how serious Hiroki's situation was, Nowaki felt a huge wave of relief wash over him.

"Yes," Dr. Souichi nodded.

He looked at Nowaki and a slight frown came over his face.

"I'm sorry if I caused you undue worry and I know it is difficult to be open about such things. I suppose I am just a bit sensitive about such matters as my own son died from just such an infection."

Nowaki's eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry Dr. Souichi-san," he said softly.

"Well, he was young and he and a lover were experimenting, apparently…"

Dr. Souichi cast his eyes down at the chart he held in his hand.

"Even after he knew he was injured he didn't seek medical treatment because he was too embarrassed. He just kept getting worse.

"When he did finally go in he told the doctor he'd fallen off a ladder and impaled himself on a broom handle, of all things."* Souichi shook his head.

"Not that the doctor believed it for an instant."

The older physician looked up at Nowaki and his eyes were filled with remorse.

"Unfortunately I didn't know until after he died what had really happened.

"He kept that part of his life from me.

"I have no doubt he was worried that I wouldn't approve. I suppose seeing the two of you together triggered that memory."

"I appreciate your thoroughness, Souichi-sensei, and I am sure that Hiro-san would too.

"I mean what if it hadn't been his appendix? I imagine many physicians would have overlooked such a possibility," Nowaki offered kindly.

Dr. Souichi looked carefully at Nowaki.

"I hope by the time you finish your internship you have managed to retain this excellent bedside manner of yours, Kusama-san."

Nowaki offered the doctor a wan smile. His mind now filled with worry about the surgery. "Do you have any idea how long ago Kamijou-san's appendix might have ruptured, Sensei?"

"Hard to say. The surgeon might do better at ascertaining a relative time frame once he gets in there. Now you said he mentioned feeling better a little while earlier?"

"Yes." Nowaki nodded.

"Well, it's not uncommon when the appendix initially bursts for the patient to experience a period of relief from the pressure of the enflamed organ." Souichi offered.

"If we're lucky, and it happened that recently, hopefully they can get Kamijou-san cleaned out before something really serious takes hold.

"Given his response and the rigidity of his abdomen, however, my suspicion is still that Kamijou-san has acute peritonitis already and that the infection had already set in some time earlier."

"He's going to be okay though. Right?"

It was an automatic response although Nowaki already knew the answer to his own question.

"I know they'll do everything they can, there are a lot of variables," Dr. Souichi solemnly.

"You should know already, Kusama-san, there are no guarantees of anything in this life."

After a few more minutes of discussion the doctor left and a nurse came and told Nowaki that they needed the room for another patient.

Nowaki nodded and headed to the surgery's waiting room. It was there that he finally called Hiroki's mother.

One hour later he was standing at the hospital's South entrance waiting for the lady Kamijou to arrive.

* * *

**Dear All, I know that this chapter was a lot of reflection.I tend to do this a lot in my fics, but I always wanted to try and figure out why Nowaki wouldn't tell Hiro-san he was leaving again.  
**

**Though my dear Egoist scholar, "X" has given me a theory since that offers a lot of merit. **

**She asserts that Nowaki didn't ask because it would look like he was requesting permission as someone younger. And that Nowaki might have thought he needed to do this on his own to show Hiroki he was an adult.**

**I have also thought since that this could also be an extension of his "stray cat" tendency. As Hiroki seemed to indicate earlier on in their relationship it was not uncommon for Nowaki to just up and disappear for days on end with no explanation.**

**Any of you have additional thoughts? I am curious.**

**Also, I hope you all weren't too disappointed it wasn't an anal perforation. I had actually always planned for it to be Hiroki's appendix that was causing him the problem. I just had to add that extra bit for effect (and education).**

* * *

*** This was an actual account given by a patient of Dr. Goldstone's. Fortunately in that case the young man survived.**

* * *

**Thanks to: Huishan .lee12, bleachfangirl7, Lizzy'-'rocks, Six Tales, Lakeofstars, and Hikari Kaiya for all the Follows and Favorites!**

* * *

**And to my lovely reviewers:  
**

**Deathday1313- Yes, it's so fun getting to invent all these little bits about my favorite couple. So glad you're enjoying the story.**

**Hey X- Yes... Hiroshima. I have been thinking about it of late. I learned recently that a nuclear plant not 60 miles from where I live contributed material to the bombs that were dropped there and at Nagasaki. Shook me up quite a bit.**

**FujoshiNinjaNumber6- thankfully you only have one appendix so you can't ever walk down that particular road again. Heh. And yes, the "a" name listing is something I have used myself.**

**Asdfghjklove- glad you liked my little educational note. And now you know why he was not judgmental. It is funny how one's perceptions shift when yuo actually know someone personally that belongs to a marginalized group. I know this myself from my own family's shifts (well most of them, anyway.)**

**Loopyhutton- thank you!**

**AnimeWolf524- thank you for the support on the lube call. Now if we could just get rid of the "three finger" convention and that blasted "scissoring" thing, I would be content. I wish people would realize, even though this is yaoi, an ass is not a vagina. Sigh.**

**Hiyokocchi- Glad you're enjoying this fic so much! **

**Kitkat3195- I am so sorry you have an understanding of Hiroki's pain. Glad you never apparently had to deal with the peritonitis aspect. And yes, Hiroki is too cute... Nowaki is right in that. **

**Wragziez- well I thank you, my dear, for leaving a thought on the last chapter. I know how you feel, I am not as good a reviewer as I should be myself.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Homesick **

**Chapters Six**

* * *

Nowaki watched as a luxury car rolled up to the Hospital's south entrance.

His nerves were on edge: his anxiety about Hiro-san compounded by this unexpected meeting of Hiroki's mother.

The lady Kamijou had been quite shocked to hear another voice on the line when she'd answered her phone with a warm greeting for her son. All her happy fluttering had stopped abruptly.

Nowaki had been surprised, given Hiro-san's rare descriptions of his mother as an excitable woman, to find her manner quickly shift to something far more businesslike. Her cultured voice was filled with concern as she'd asked for the specifics about her son's situation.

A driver popped out of the car, moved around quickly, and opened the door to the backseat and a middle aged woman in an elegant kimono emerged. Then the driver went round to the trunk and brought out a small wheeled suitcase which he brought around.

The woman nodded graciously.

"I'll call you if I need your services further."

"Of course, Kamijou-sama." The chauffeur offered a low bow before departing.

Nowaki studied Hiroki's mother as she watched the car take off. She was a stunning woman and he could immediately see so many physical echoes of Hiro-san in her.

He watched as she sighed and then drew herself up to face the unknown. Carrying herself regally she turned and began to move toward the hospital entrance.

As she scanned the surrounding people, searching for the height the voice on the phone had offered her as a means of identification, her eyes immediately alighted upon Nowaki.

Nowaki felt his anxiety increase and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

Meeting Hiro-san's parents was something he'd fantasized about occasionally, but this particular scenario was not like anything he'd ever imagined.

He was acutely aware that he must have looked more than a bit disheveled, wearing his slept in tee-shirt and sweats. Nowaki realized suddenly he should have at least ducked into the men's room to check his surely sleep-rumpled hair, but in his concern about Hiro-san all that had seemed so inconsequential.

Pretending none of this mattered; he stepped forward to greet the Lady Kamijou.

"Kamijou-san," he greeted with a bow.

The woman returned the gesture and if she found his appearance rough, she didn't show it.

"Kusama-san, I presume." Despite her clam demeanor her eyes were anxious. "I got here as soon as I could. Where is my son? Can you take me to him?"

"Ah, he's still in surgery, Kamijou-san," Nowaki offered sadly. "But we can wait in the waiting room and someone will come tell us how things went as soon as they're done."

"Please tell me again exactly what happened," Hiroki's mother entreated.

"I'm afraid I missed some details in your call: I was so shocked." Kamijou-san admitted this blushing slightly.

If the situation hadn't been so dire, Nowaki would have reveled in seeing this bit of his lover's own meticulous nature (as well as the blush) reflected in Hiroki's mother.

After Nowaki repeated the story, the lady Kamijou cocked her head slightly as she studied the young man before her.

"You sound so professional when you tell it, Kusama-san."

"I'm a medical student, Kamijou-san. In fact, I just started my residency here," Nowaki offered.

This bit of information brought a slight look of relief to the lady Kamijou's worried eyes. Then this light shifted into something more curious.

"And you said you're Hiroki's flat mate?" Kamijou-san asked. "He never mentioned living with someone to me."

"Well, we have only been living together for a month or so." Nowaki hoped that his voice didn't reveal his sudden nervousness.

Kamijou-san looked as though she had something else she wanted to ask, but then her expression shifted and instead she bowed to Nowaki again.

"I must thank you, Kusama-san, for looking after my son. Who knows what might have happened if you hadn't gone looking for him."

This very thought had been haunting Nowaki ever since he'd learned Hiroki's diagnosis:

_What if I hadn't found Hiro-san, or if I hadn't been home and answered the phone, or if Miyagi hadn't bothered to call?_

"I'm just sorry I didn't realize how badly he was feeling this morning. I would have made him come in earlier."

The lady Kamijou looked at Nowaki kindly. "Kusama-san, please don't blame yourself. If I know my son, he was probably far from forthcoming about his distress. Hiroki can be very stubborn."

Nowaki couldn't help but find his lips curling just slightly at this maternal observation. This smile fled immediately however, when he heard a familiar voice call, "Mama Kamijou!"

Looking down the walk Nowaki saw an elegant silver-haired figure approaching.

"Aki-kun!" Hiroki's mother cried.

The mask of composure she'd been wearing fell away at the sight of Akihiko. She rushed over to him and Nowaki watched the author bow.

"Why didn't you call me and tell me what happened?" The tears of worry Kamijou-san had been restraining suddenly filled her eyes.

Akihiko's lavender gaze glanced uncomfortably over at Nowaki.

"I'm sorry, Mama Kamijou, but Kusama-san only recently called me, so I actually just learned about this myself.

"I came down as soon as I heard what happened."

"So you know Hiroki's housemate too?" Kamijou-san sniffed delicately, tears abating, as she pinned Akihiko under her sharp mother's eyes.

"Why is it everyone else knows what's going on in my son's life better than I do?"

Akihiko's brows rose slightly at the mention of the word "housemate."

He'd known that Nowaki and his friend had been going out for some time, but somehow he'd gotten the impression from Hiroki (though Hiroki never said so directly) that they'd broken up quite a while ago.

Given this, he had been surprised when he answered his cell with a harassing salutation earlier, expecting Hiroki, only to find his friend's long-absent lover on the line.

Now at this new information, Akihiko found himself feeling annoyed with Hiroki, despite his concern for his friend's well-being. He had met with him to go over a manuscript just last week and Hiroki had said nothing about such a significant development.

Trying to avoid a potentially awkward moment, Nowaki coughed lightly drawing the lady's attention.

"Umm… Kamijou-san, perhaps you'd like to go to the waiting room? I'm not sure how much longer your son will be in surgery."

"Excellent idea," Akihiko agreed grateful for the diversion.

He stepped up next to Hiroki's mother's side and began ushering her towards the entrance.

"Would you mind showing us the way, Kusama-san?" Akihiko asked politely, only the barest trace of tightness discernible in his voice.

"Of course. This way please." As Nowaki turned toward the entry to lead the other two the waiting area, he suddenly realized that in the six years he'd spent with Hiro-san, having seen Akihiko multiple times, this was the first occasion where the man had ever addressed him directly.

"Here you are, Kamijou-san."

Nowaki held out a hot cup of tea to Hiroki's worried mother.

They had been sitting in the surgery's waiting room for over two hours. "Are you sure you didn't want something, Usami-san?"

Akihiko just shook his head. "No thank you, Kusama-san," he murmured.

Noting Akihiko's hand-tailored clothes Nowaki felt even shabbier than he had earlier.

Nowaki sighed at this realization as he took his seat back across from Hiroki's mother.

Akihiko was sitting beside her and the two had been conversing softly. Nowaki's cool blue eyes studied the author as Akihiko caught up with Kamijou-san on all the neighborhood news.

It was hard in a situation like this for Nowaki not to compare himself with Akihiko once more, though he knew that doing so would only cause him to feel even worse than he already did.

He felt a sharp pang at the two's familiarity and wondered again, not for the first time, if he would ever feel like he was on the inside of Hiro-san's world.

"And where are you planning to stay, Mama Kamijou?" Akihiko watched the woman take a small sip of her tea.

"Well, I thought I would just stay with Hiroki here, if they let me."

"I'm sorry to intrude into your conversation, Kamijou-san," Nowaki interjected, "but given the situation, my guess is that he'll be in ICU for a few days.

"If that's the case, they won't let you stay there overnight with him, I'm afraid."

Hiroki's mother frowned at this information. She turned slowly towards Akihiko.

"Aki-kun, I'm so sorry to impose, but do you think… possibly…?" she ventured cautiously.

Nowaki watched with shock as the great Lord Usami suddenly blushed at Kamijou-san's tentative inquiry.

"Erm… I am so sorry, Mama Kamijou," Akihiko stammered.

"Previously I would have been delighted to host you… but uh… I have a lodger living with me now, so I don't have a guest room anymore." Akihiko looked quite uncomfortable disclosing this.

"Eh?" What's this, Aki?" The lady Kamijou's brows rose at this information.

"Since when did you take a tenant? Are you really struggling so much that you need a renter?"

"No, Mama Kamijou," Akihiko replied seeming to have regained some of his composure.

"You remember Takahashi Takahiro." Seeing the woman nod, Akihiko continued.

"Well, you see, it's his brother.

"Takahashi-san got transferred for work and his younger brother was enrolled here at 'M' University, so I offered to take him in so that he could continue with his school."

"That's admirable, Aki-kun, but doesn't seem like you at all," Kamijou-san sniffed.

She cast an eye at Nowaki who had been watching the exchange with undisguised curiosity.

"What is it with you and Hiroki, getting housemates at your age?" Kamijou-san asked pointedly, turning her eyes back to Akihiko.

"Honestly, Aki-kun, I never figured either of you as the type to share your space, unless of course it was with each other.

"You always were such great friends."

"Ummm, Kamijou-san, please excuse me..." Nowaki jumped in, wanting to distract from the continuation of this particular topic.

"You know you're welcome to stay at our apartment. I'm sure your son would want that," Nowaki offered helpfully.

"Hmphhh, don't be so sure, Kusama-san," the lady Kamijou snorted. Then she added kindly, "Thank you so much for your offer but are you sure I wouldn't be intruding?"

"Of course not, Kamijou-san. You can sleep in your son's room.

"Besides, I am normally here most of the night, so most likely I won't even be there."

Even as he said this however, Nowaki was casting his mind around trying to remember if there was anything he or Hiro-san had left out that might be incriminating.

Hiroki's mother considered this for a moment and then gave Nowaki a slight nod.

"Yes thank you then, Kusama-san. You know I have never even seen Hiroki's new apartment... For that matter, I don't think I have been to visit him since after he got settled into his first apartment."

Kamijou-san had just finished saying this when a doctor emerged through the surgery's double doors into the waiting room.

"Kusama?" He called out quietly.

"Here," Nowaki answered.

The man stepped over. "Ah yes, I am Dr. Ida, I performed the surgery on Kamijou-san. You're his…?"

"Housemate," Nowaki offered.

"And I'm his mother." Kamijou-san rose to meet Ida. "Please tell me how is he?"

The doctor's eyes were kind, but his expression was serious. "He's waking up from the surgery now. We're going to be keeping him in the ICU to monitor him for the next forty-eight hours at least… um…"

"Kamijou also," Hiroki's mother offered.

"Well Kamijou-san, normally an appendectomy is a relatively simple surgery, but your son's had burst and looking at his internal conditions, things are still very serious.

"The rupture has caused peritonitis. I irrigated his abdomen as thoroughly as I could but we won't know for a bit how successfully.

"Things were so septic, he may abscess later. We just don't know how things will be yet.

"He's currently in critical condition and we're going to need to monitor him closely.

"Honestly how he was even conscious, let alone functional as long as he was seems a miracle to me.

"Given how things looked when we opened him up he had to have been feeling like he'd committed seppuku."

"Oh Hiroki, so stubborn," Kamijou-san sighed. She looked at the doctor her dark eyes huge. "He will be okay though… won't he?"

"As I said, we'll have to watch him closely for a while. I am hopeful, but even so, Kamijou-san, your son is going to be feeling very poorly for some time. I'm sorry I can't be more positive."

"May I see him?"

"If you'll come with me, I'll have a nurse take you back."

Akihiko rose from his seat and acted as though he might follow. "Are you family too?" Ida asked.

"A friend.".

"So, sorry, but only immediate family is allowed in the ICU," Dr. Ida explained.

Akihiko looked at Kamijou-san. "I'll wait for you here then, I promise."

Hiroki's mother's lips were pressed into a tight line and she nodded.

She handed the handle of her small suitcase over to Akihiko. "Thank you, Aki-kun."

She looked at Nowaki; her eyes glistened with unshed tears that had formed at the doctor's words.

"Kusama-san, thank you so much for getting my son here."

Nowaki just offered a wan smile and bowed. He and Akihiko both watched Hiroki's mother leave with the surgeon.

As soon as Dr. Ida was gone, Akihiko cleared his throat, drawing Nowaki's attention.

The two men just stood there regarding each other silently for several minutes.

"Why did you call me, Kusama-san?" Akihiko asked curiously now that the lady Kamijou was gone.

He knew that he was far from Nowaki's favorite person. He'd avoided having any contact with the man ever since their initial meeting, when Nowaki had met him in the doorway of Hiroki's old apartment and claimed his best friend.

Nowaki frowned as he considered the question.

"Well," he nodded at the clock on the wall. "I wasn't sure how long Hiro-san would be in surgery and I have to start my next shift here now in thirty minutes."

The intern paused a moment before continuing.

"When I called Kamijou-san earlier and she said she was coming, I figured she would need someone to wait with her.

"I didn't want her here by herself during such a difficult time and she knows you after all. Besides, you're Hiro-san's friend."

Akihiko remained silent contemplating Nowaki's words. His cool eyes traveled over Nowaki appraisingly.

"You're a bigger man than I am, Kusama-san," Akihiko said softly. "I doubt I would have called you at all if the situation was reversed."

Nowaki tilted his head slightly at Akihiko's words.

"I know that."

He solemnly handed Akihiko the keys to Hiroki and his apartment. He'd pulled them from Hiroki's coat pocket earlier.

Any previous insecurities Nowaki had been feeling were vanquished by these words.

"Please get Kamijou-san home safely. Okay? I have to go to work."

With that Nowaki turned and headed off towards pediatrics leaving a stunned Akihiko standing in the waiting room.

* * *

**This more reserved lady Kamijou is a favor to my dear "X." I hope you all like this incarnation of Hiroki's mother as much as I enjoy writing her. **

**Thanks to Owolove and Glace Aquarii for the follows/favorites.**

**"X"- wonderful to hear from you, sweetheart. And thank you for that "Minimum Damage" review for Don't Preach.**

**Hiyokocchi- Angst will be being served post haste. And thank you for your comments on my tendency for internal dynamics!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Homesick **

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Nowaki was up in the interns' locker room when Tsumori walked in. The blond senior gave pediatrics' newest player the once over.

"That's not exactly appropriate ward-wear, Nowaki."

Nowaki looked down at his sweats and tee-shirt.

"Ah… I know. Sorry, Senpai. I had a friend that had to be rushed to emergency here just a few hours ago and I have been with him until just recently.

"I left home so quickly when I heard he was ill I didn't even think about changing. I understand if you need to report me."

Tsumori looked at Nowaki and smiled. Though he had been working with the tall youth for just a few weeks he already liked Nowaki immensely. He waved off Nowaki's concern since he'd really just been teasing. It tickled him that the kid was just always so serious about everything.

"What was the diagnosis?"

"Ruptured appendix and peritonitis," Nowaki replied sadly.

"Tsk… well that sucks."

"Ummm." Nowaki nodded, trying hard to hide how upset the older intern's cold comment made him. He'd quickly learned that while Tsumori was good with the children in his care, outside of this he could be quite blunt at times.

"Hey Nowaki, why don't you call your girlfriend, Hiro, and ask her to bring you down a change of clothes?" Tsumori suggested.

Nowaki had mentioned a person named "Hiro-san" more than once in the casual conversations they'd shared since they began sharing shifts. He said the appellation so lovingly it was obvious he was in a relationship: the honeymoon phase.

Tsumori had pressed and gotten Nowaki to finally admit to this just recently and now that he had this information he couldn't help but tease a bit.

"I'd love to meet this cutie of yours. Though you better be careful; if she's too cute I might be tempted to try and steal her away from you."

"Ummm… Hiro-san is busy," Nowaki said after a moment, turning back to his locker to take out his white coat.

"What kind of woman is too preoccupied to take care of her boyfriend? Let me tell you, Nowaki, I don't agree with how progressive a lot of Japanese ladies are getting these days."

"Hiro-san works very hard, Senpai and I admire that," Nowaki murmured mildly.

"Oh, Kusama-sensei!" a nurse called cheerfully from the door. She held up a pair of long blue scrubs and moved over towards Nowaki. "So sorry to disturb, but I found these for you. I know you said you didn't want me to bother, but honestly I don't mind.

"Thank you so much, Asami-san." Nowaki gratefully took the garments from the nurse. He nodded at Tsumori.

"These will be better, neh? I best go change quickly so I'm not late for my shift."

Nowaki thanked the nurse again before disappearing into the locker's bathroom to don this new outfit. Asami watched him depart with unveiled admiration.

"He has a girlfriend already, you know," Tsumori said coolly. He watched the nurse blush at his comment.

"I, on the other hand, am available." He offered the young woman a sly grin.

Asami looked at Tsumori and her eyes narrowed.

"Hmph, I can see why." she sniffed and walked out of the locker room haughtily.

Tsumori eyed the woman's pert ass as she left and clucked his tongue with regret.

"Like I said," he sighed as he moved over to his own locker, "modern women."

* * *

As soon as his shift ended, Nowaki headed off, still in his scrubs and smock, to the I.C.U.

This was another reason he'd wanted to bring Hiro-san here.

He knew that with the restrictions regarding visitors, that as a same sex partner, normally he would have no rights to see Hiro-san. But dressed as he was and being an intern, few would question his visits.

It didn't take Nowaki long to locate Hiroki's room. Fortunately, no one else was there.

_Kamijou-san must have gone to get some sleep._

He paused at the threshold; his chest ached the moment he opened the door and saw Hiroki.

Though this was a scene he encountered regularly now and would for as long as he was in medicine, he had a new appreciation of the grief that his patients' families felt.

Across the room in a hospital bed laid his beloved Hiro-san, his lean arms now veined with tubes. Machines measuring Hiroki's vitals stood in attendance, making soft noises that competed with his deep breathing.

Nowaki noticed the tubes in Hiroki's nose. A catheter bag was hooked to the side of the bed on a low rail, half covered by the disarrayed sheets.

He hoped these things had been added while Hiro-san was still knocked out. He couldn't imagine how his professor would have responded if they'd tried to apply them while Hiroki was conscious.

Quietly Nowaki moved over to the bed. He picked up the clipboard attached to its foot.

His handsome brow furrowed as he read through the chart. Looking up from the pages at his pale lover, he sighed and set the clipboard down.

Understanding what was written there was one thing, seeing it in action in the person he most loved in the world was entirely another.

Nowaki stepped over to the side of the bed. He gently brushed a damp lock to the side on Hiroki's fevered forehead.

He looked up as a nurse came in carrying a syringe and a new I.V. bag. The woman was surprised to see someone else in the room.

She stepped over to the monitors looking inquiringly at Nowaki.

"Um… Sensei…?"

"Ah, no I'm an intern here in Pediatrics, Kusama," Nowaki offered the nurse a slight bow. "Kamijou-san is a friend of mine and I wanted to check on him. I hope that's okay."

"Well, technically, there shouldn't be anyone but his family in here," the nurse said a bit nervously after returning the bow. Then looking at Nowaki's expression she softened.

"But since you're an intern, I suppose it's alright."

She changed the I.V. bag and administered the syringe of pain meds intravenously. She checked the monitors and then moved to straighten the bedclothes.

Her eyes widened slightly as Nowaki assisted in this from the other side of the bed.

"May I sit with him a bit?"

The nurse smiled at the sweet way Nowaki spoke. That he was so handsome didn't hurt either.

"I don't see why not."

"Thank you." Nowaki politely offered another slight bow and pulled a chair up next to Hiroki's bed and sat down.

The woman nodded and then looked at Nowaki curiously. She watched as he reached over and gently placed his hand on top of Hiroki's but she said nothing and instead turned and quietly made her exit.

Nowaki was entirely unaware that the woman had left: all his focus was on Hiro-san.

His eyes roamed over the contours of his lover's pale face.

He noted the light blush on Hiroki's cheeks caused by fever rather than fervor. His gaze traced the soft blue of the veins just beneath the surface of his partner's closed eyelids. He was amazed that this man, who was the embodiment of strength to him, could suddenly look so fragile.

Nowaki was hypnotized momentarily watching the vein pulse in Hiroki's long, strong neck. He thanked the heavens for every beat. A tear gathered in the corner of his eye and began its languid slide down his cheek.

Leaning over, Nowaki lifted Hiroki's hand, and softly kissed the back of it. He allowed his lips to linger there, not wanting to break this tender connection.

"What are you doing, Dumb-ass?" a weak growl sounded from above his bowed head.

Nowaki's head shot up and his eyes met a weary hazel gaze.

"Hiro-san! You're awake!"

"Mmmm," Hiroki nodded slightly. His eyes drifted shut as though the lids were too heavy to stay raised.

"But you shouldn't be," he mumbled. "Why aren't you at home asleep?"

"I was worried about you, Hiro-san," Nowaki said softly.

Hiroki sighed at this and was silent a minute. The new pain medication the nurse had given was already taking effect and he was fighting to stay awake.

"Nowaki, I am in the hospital, surrounded by nurses and doctors checking on me every five minutes.

"Go home.

"It's not going to help you do your residency if you're exhausted." Hiroki's chiding lacked its usual sternness as his words grew increasingly thick.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Hiro-san."

One dark eye slowly opened and regarded Nowaki. It was lit momentarily by a bit of the professor's usual fierceness.

"Nowaki, I just had my stomach cut open; my guts are burning; my throat is so dry I can barely talk and they won't let me drink anything; and they stuck a tube in my dick.

"I am so far from 'okay' it isn't funny..."

Nowaki frowned at this, but the frown slipped when Hiroki weakly raised his hand to his dry lips and gave it a small peck. Both Hiroki's eyes opened then and he looked into Nowaki's deep blue gaze.

"But... thanks to you, I'll live."

Hiroki let their joined hands slip gently back down to the surface of the bed and his eyelids lowered again.

"Now get your intern ass home, before I have to get up and kick it there myself." Even as he said this though, his growl was fading.

Nowaki smiled at his lover's false threat and watched Hiro-san drift off completely.

"Okay, Hiro-san." Nowaki rose. He placed a kiss on Hiroki's smooth forehead.

"I love you, Hiro-san" he whispered before he finally released Hiroki's hand.

He sighed and reluctantly left the room.

* * *

**A little fluff to temper the angst.**

**Sorry no AN's today. Limited internet time. But will as soon as I can.**

**Hope to hear from you!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Homesick**

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

The Lady Kamijou rode silently alongside Akihiko in his car.

She had called him just a few moments after seeing her son for the first time in the ICU. She had told Akihiko of Hiroki's precarious condition and that she would not be leaving for some hours. She'd also said that he shouldn't waste his time waiting around for her.

Akihiko had agreed to go home, only after he'd made her promise that she would call him when she was ready to leave so that he could personally take her to her son's apartment.

Kamijou-san had sat with her sedated son for hours before finally heeding the nurses' gentle, but repeated, urging to go and get some rest.

Even with their calm assurances it was hard for her to leave. Hiroki had woken up only once in the time she'd been there. He had raised his eyes and she was shocked to see the tired pain that had taken up residence in her son's gaze where she was so used to seeing only his fierce intelligence.

Hiroki had remained silent but he'd frowned at her slightly before drifting off again. Knowing her son as she did, over the years the lady Kamijou had become quite the interpreter of scowls and she understood immediately this one had indicated Hiroki was disturbed for having caused her such bother.

Still, at the same time, Kamijou-san had felt a gentle squeeze by the pale hand she had been holding, acknowledging that he was grateful for her presence all the same.

A slight dip in the road jarred Hiroki's mother from her hospital memories, but only momentarily.

In all her son's life, Kamijou-san had never seen her Hiroki in such a compromised state: it had deeply shaken her. He had always been a very healthy boy, rarely had ever he come down with anything, even the annual flu was a rarity. His father, Hiromasa, had once told her that their son was simply too stubborn to ever be really ill.

Still,_ s_he worried.

Her mother's mind was filled with troublesome thoughts as she gazed out the car window at the city lights of urban Tokyo. The chaos of digital and fluorescent color was so different from the quiet dark space surrounding her home.

It had been about six months since she had last seen Hiroki. That time, however, and actually for the few occasions he'd visited throughout that year, her son had seemed to her somehow diminished… troubled. His will had dimmed and the lady wondered if this "weakness" had somehow compromised his health, allowing for this terrible illness.

She had asked Hiroki on numerous occasions what had been bothering him, but as usual her son was closemouthed. The lady Kamijou knew Hiroki felt things deeply, but was uncomfortable showing this. Bluster or silence, these seemed to be his two general modes.

_He's so much like his father in that respect._ The Lady Kamijou smiled at this, her heart filled with love for her two men. She looked over at Akihiko. _Well, maybe three..._

* * *

As the lady had been dealing with her own tumultuous thoughts, beside her Akihiko was not faring much better.

It was only after Kusama had left, Akihiko had realized he had no idea where his best friend lived now: Hiroki had moved unexpectedly a while back and hadn't even bothered to let him know.

He'd discovered this when he'd gone to Hiroki's old apartment to drop off some books he'd borrowed, only to find some stranger answered the door. In truth, it had been quite some time since he had even been to Hiroki's old apartment. Not that he was about to tell Mama Kamijou that.

When they were younger he'd been a frequent visitor at his friend's flat. Though Hiroki, with his precision of language, preferred to refer to him more often as "pest" than "guest" during these calls. The corner of Akihiko's mouth twitched up as he remembered this.

As his thoughts progressed, however, his face became serious again.

His visits to Hiroki's house had more or less stopped really, the day that Kusama had shown up in the door behind his best friend and claimed the man as his own.

As he considered this, Akihiko looked longingly at the glove compartment, where he knew a half-full pack of smokes currently resided. As much as he wanted one, he didn't dare smoke in Mama Kamijou's presence; she had no patience for the habit.

He exhaled a long breath through his nose, trying to curb the rising voice of his addiction.

In an attempt to distract himself from his nicotine hunger, he felt his mind drifting back. He had come to Hiroki's flat that long ago day, not just to see how his friend was doing, but really to get some answers to the questions that had been burning inside him after their "blindfold" incident.

When Hiroki had suggested they fuck, Akihiko had thought at first his friend was just ragging him, as he so often did, about Takahiro. Then when Akihiko had realized that Hiroki was actually serious, beyond his initial "don't be stupid," response, he'd soon found himself overwhelmingly curious.

He had loved Hiroki wildly when they were younger, but had always thought his sober friend was far removed from such feelings. Having that long forbidden fruit dangled before him, despite his affection for Takahiro, Akihiko found that he couldn't resist tasting it just once, knowing the other was willing.

_But that taste… Oh, sweet god, that one taste… It was nothing short of miraculous._

Akihiko had almost said Hiroki's name twice before he regained enough of his senses to know what saying this would do to their friendship. So instead, he had purposely called out Takahiro's name.

_It made sense, didn't it?_

Takahiro was the one he had supposedly loved after all and besides, it had just been a wild hare for Hiroki.

_Right?_

Something new his jaded friend hadn't done yet.

Akihiko sighed now at his own adolescent obtuseness. He wondered why he'd ever thought this, considering how well he knew beneath his stern exterior that Kamijou Hiroki felt everything else in the world incredibly deeply.

_Why not that too?_

* * *

Akihiko was roused from his thoughts. "Excuse me, Mama Kamijou, I didn't hear what you said."

"Ah, well that's no wonder. You looked like you were a million miles away, Aki-kun," Kamijou-san gently chided. She repeated her earlier question.

"Why do you think Hiroki hasn't mentioned this Kusama-san to me before? Very strange, as I said, neh? For a man of his age and in his position to take a roommate."

"Ah, well…" Akihiko hummed, aware that, despite her pleasant exterior, the lady Kamijou's eyes and her mind were just as sharp as her son's.

"He doesn't speak much of his personal life to me these days. We mostly talk about work and books.

"I'm sure he has a reason... or maybe you could ask Kusama-san about their arrangements? He seems a very cordial sort." Akihiko felt just a bit evil as he said this but then he had no reason to like the man.

It was only after the blindfold event, when Hiroki failed to call later, that Akihiko had begun to suspect.

At first, he'd figured Hiroki must have felt as he had and was, he imagined, equally embarrassed (a state he himself was unused to normally). For this reason he had initially given Hiroki his space, as the alternative had seemed immensely awkward.

But as the silence had extended and Hiroki became ever more elusive when he tried to track the literature student down, Akihiko had finally realized how off he might have been in his understanding of his friend's motives.

What's more, he knew a vocal, blustering Hiroki meant the man was fine, but such a quiet Hiroki… well. That was another matter entirely.

He had been planning to confront Hiroki about this. He was working his way up to it, in fact, when Kusama had so boldly made his presence known.

What neither Hiroki nor Nowaki knew, however, was that he hadn't left immediately after Kusama had shut the door on him. In fact, hearing Hiroki yell through the thin wood, initially Akihiko had stood there smirking. He'd felt assured that his friend would be back in a minute, holding the door to usher Kusama out and him in.

_But that isn't what happened…  
_

It had been shocking to Akihiko, as the minutes passed and he'd continued to stand there, listening to the rise and fall of the two men's voices within the shroud of the apartment's interior. But still he'd waited; he hadn't been about to just allow himself to be shut out, he had a case to make.

Finally, he had raised his fist to pound on the door. But as he did, the sounds within the flat shifted… rather dramatically…

Hearing Hiroki's muffled cries and understanding what they meant, Akihiko had known immediately somehow that he'd lost.

It was only then that he'd allowed his hand to drop and had retreated... eventually all the way back to the safe and comfortable role of Takahiro's longing admirer.

* * *

"How much farther, Aki-kun?" Kamijou-san's tired voice broke into Akihiko's thoughts once more.

"Just a few more minutes, Mama Kamijou," Akihiko gave the woman one of his book tour smiles.

There was no way he would ever reveal the new humiliation he had felt having to track Kusama down in the hospital again that evening to get the directions to Hiroki's new apartment. More disconcerting, than having to find the intern, however, was finding the young man so clearly in his element.

He'd encountered Nowaki in the hall going over a child's chart with her tearful parents.

Seeing Kusama in his smock, his demeanor not much different than what he'd displayed downstairs, the author had found himself harboring no doubt Kusama was more than competent. This had become even clearer as he'd watched the parents thank the young man effusively for saving their little girl.

Kusama had accepted their gratitude with just the right amount of humility

Akihiko was still surprised at all the feelings seeing this had stirred in him. He'd suddenly realized Hiroki's lover was far more dimensional than the caricature he'd reduced the man to in his BL novels. Not that this incited him to change his depictions…

_Those damn Junai Egoist fuck books make me entirely too much money to go messing with the formula._

"Here we are, at last," Akihiko murmured as he pulled his car into the lot.

As he moved around to the other side of the car to help the lady Kamijou out, he reflected on Hiroki's new location. It made sense: the complex was about midway between the hospital and the University. The neighborhood was certainly more genteel, far better suited to a young professional than an overworked Uni student.

Apparently Hiroki's mother thought so too as Akihiko caught Kamijou-san giving the building a thorough once over and offering a quiet sniff of approval.

Moving around his car, Akihiko around removed her rolling suitcase from the back and began pulling it along behind him.

"This way, Mama Kamijou," he offered, leading the way as he followed the directions Kusama had given him.

They took the outdoor elevator up to the seventh floor rather than the stairs. Kusama's directions had been impeccable and so, Akihiko was able to navigate his way to Hiroki's front door with the assurance of one who had been there a thousand times.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel his brow rise at seeing the brass name plate with _Kamijou_ and _Kusama_ on it. Although Akihiko knew the pair had been together for years now, this bespoke to him of a new solidity he hadn't anticipated.

Opening the door with the key Kusama provided, Akihiko turned on the interior light as he ushered Hiroki's mother in. They stopped in the entry to take off their shoes before moving in further.

As soon as they'd entered, Akihiko's nose was filled with familiar smells, things he'd always associated with Hiroki: rich tea and old books, a certain spiced shampoo the man used and beneath this something that had always struck him as solid and rather earthy.

"Ah… this is lovely really and so clean," Kamijou-san murmured as she'd turned on the next light and moved into the main room. Akihiko followed in after and found himself agreeing with Mama's assessment. It was certainly steps above the crowded flat Hiroki had occupied as a student.

Akihiko noted not only the orderly bookshelf lined walls, but also the large flat screen TV and the gaming station. As he stepped over to the contemporary looking couch, he figured the technological touches must be Kusama's.

"Ummm… Mama Kamijou," Akihiko started uncomfortably, "I spoke to Kusama-san and he said he would be pleased if you would take his room. He said the bed is done up there and that he'd just changed the linens today. It's the last door down the hall on the right."

"That's very kind of him, but where will he sleep then?"

"He said he'd take Hiroki's room. He thought it might be too cluttered for your comfort."

"Mmmmm, is that so?" Kamijou-san hummed as she picked up the handle of her case and headed down the hallway exploring. She opened the first door on the left side of the hall and found herself staring into what was obviously her son's room.

_Now this is more like my Hiroki._ She smiled seeing the rumpled, unmade double futon, overflowing shelf-lined walls, and books piled in knee-high stacks all over the floor.

Curious, and since she had been invited, she moved down the hall to peek in Kusama-san's room.

Opening this door Kamijou-san found a space virtually free from any kind of clutter and a crisp made bed. Stepping in she noticed there were books here too, though not nearly as many, and that they were mostly medical texts.

She sighed. Though she felt a bit guilty about the idea of displacing him, Kusama-san was right; this room was far more to her liking. She rolled her case up against the dresser and was about to leave when suddenly she noticed something. She stepped up and looked more closely.

_How strange…_

Kamijou-san reached out and gingerly picked up two small stuffed animals that had been sitting together atop Kusama-san's dresser.

Having been to Akihiko's flat and seeing her "second son's" collection, it wasn't that Kusama-san had stuffed animals that struck her as odd. It was that one of them was a stuffed black dog and the other, she was sure, was Hiroki's battered plushie cat "Alien."

_What is Alien doing in Kusama-san's room?_

* * *

Out in the main room, while he waited to be dismissed, Akihiko was doing a bit of looking about himself. Stepping into this world he suddenly realized how little he knew about his oldest friend anymore, though there were times he wondered if he'd ever really known Hiroki at all.

Akihiko's eyes traced over the titles on the bookshelves. He recognized quite a number of them.

An unusual flush of pleasure filled him when he noticed on one of the top shelves Hiroki was still keeping his books in triplicate. Then Akihiko's eyes fell on something curious, a small wooden panda figurine wearing an Uncle Sam outfit.

He picked it up carefully and turned it over, looking at the base. _"Made in Japan,_" it read.

Akihiko snorted and wondered why the two men would have such a thing.

_Not that I'm in any place to be casting stones…_Still, it struck him as somehow out of character for the couple. Neither really seemed to him to be the sort to indulge in knickknacks.

Retuning the panda to its shelf, Akihiko stepped back. Then he looked down on the coffee table. He grinned when he saw a pile of men's fitness magazines.

_These must be Hiroki's. I'll bet if I asked him, he'd tell me he reads them for the articles._

Akihiko remembered surprising Hiroki, while his fiery friend was studying just this type of magazine, at their place in the woods one day when they were about thirteen. He could still picture Hiroki's blush at being caught.

When asked why he was looking at something like that, Hiroki had grown still for a moment. Then he 'd looked up and despite being the reddest Akihiko had ever seen him, he'd met his gaze squarely.

"I like guys," Hiroki had said simply and then a moment later: "Problem?" Akihiko recalled shaking his head.

Satisfied with this, Hiroki had stuck the magazine in his backpack and pulled out a regular novel and began reading. That was the extent of his coming out...

_To me at least…_

"Aki-kun?"

Akihiko looked up to see Hiroki's mother had rejoined him.

"Are you okay, Dear?"

The warmth in Mama Kamijou's eyes pierced him and, as much as Akihiko cursed the gods for giving him the family he had, he also blessed them for sending him the Kamijou's to make his early life in Japan bearable.

Once again Akihiko found himself wishing desperately for a cigarette.

"Just a lot of thoughts tonight… memories…" He often found himself able to talk with Hiroki's mother in a way he could with few other people.

"I guess, it's a bit of a scare… What happened today.

"I just never imagined the possibility of a life without Hiroki to harass before…" Akihiko was surprised to hear the roughness in his voice at the end of this statement, but even more so, as far away as he and Hiroki had grown he also realized this was true.

Kamijou-san stepped up to him. "He's going to be okay, Aki-kun. Don't you worry."

Akihiko cleared his throat and nodded.

Seeing the author's discomfort, Hiroki's mother moved into the kitchen. "If I can fumble my way around here, maybe I can find us some of that good tea my son indulges in. Would you like some?"

"That's so very kind, Mama Kamijou," Akihiko murmured politely. "But I promised to help my lodger, Takahashi-kun, with some of his studies tonight. I've been tutoring him. It's a bit late and I don't want him getting too overtired as he's working as well as attending classes right now."

"Of course," the lady said stepping out of the kitchen and walking Akihiko to the door. "You always have been such a kind boy, Aki-kun."

Akihiko found himself experiencing a rare heat in his cheeks at Kamijou-san's words. "Erm… Well, please keep me posted, Mama Kamijou, and let me know if you need anything… Another ride or whatever." Akihiko bowed his way out once he'd slipped back into his shoes.

"Yes, Dear. Of course," the lady smiled, though her eyes were weighted. "Take care, Aki-kun, and it's good to see you. Even if the circumstances are less than ideal."

After a few more parting exchanges, Akihiko found himself, at last, standing blessedly alone outside Hiroki's apartment. He immediately began fumbling through his pockets and almost whooped with relief when he located a crumpled pack with one last fag in it.

Standing on the walkway Akihiko lit up and took a deep drag.

As he did his pale eyes fell on the nameplate besides the door. He ran a long finger over Hiroki's name.

"You'd better fucking stay with us, Old Man," Akihiko whispered. "Because as much of a pain in the ass as you are to me sometimes, I love you…

"Whatever that means."

Akihiko stood staring at the name _Kamijou_ for a few minutes longer. Then his phone rang.

A sweet smile replaced the bitter one he was wearing when Akihiko saw the caller. He tapped out his smoke and answered.

"Ah, Misaki… you must have been missing me… No, I'm not lost… I just got a little sidetracked… No, I'm on my way home now."

Akihiko picked up his step as he felt his young lover's voice pulling him from his past back more fully into the present.

As he headed towards his car he continued to listen to the irate lecture he was being given from the other end of the line.

He grinned at Misaki's scolding and growled back, "Look, if you'll wait up for me, I'll tell you all about it when I get home." Then he added in a much softer voice, his tone sober, "Oh, and I don't know that you'll need to spend too much more time tonight laboring on that literature assignment that was due tomorrow."

* * *

**Next Up Nowaki gets to spend some quality time with Hiroki's Mama and then it's back to the hospital for more fun with poor ailing Hiro-san.**

**Thank you for the reads and the reviews!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Homesick: Chapter Ten**

* * *

The lady Kamijou was passing a difficult night at the Kamijou-Kusama apartment. It was not that the accommodations weren't acceptable. In fact, Kamijou-san had been quite surprised by how comfortable and homey the place had felt for belonging to two bachelors, professional men who worked long hours.

_Well at least, Hiroki... I know next to nothing really about Kusama-san. But being a medical man I am sure he has a vigorous schedule._

More so her unease came from the strangeness of her surroundings. Outside of the rare social occasion with her husband and the activities of the various society clubs she belonged to, the lady Kamijou did not spend much time in public and far less away from her home.

She easily found Hiroki's good tea and made a cup. She was pleased to perform the soothing ritual. She was gratified also that her son had not let all she had taught him about the significance of tea be adulterated by the way it was produced for modern convenience.

Sitting at the tall dining table, Kamijou-san sipped the hot drink quietly as she tried to sort out all the chaos of her worried mind. In the midst of this, Kamijou Senior called.

Hiromasa was traveling at the moment. Despite this and Kamijou-san's gentle protests, however, he declared he would be catching the next plane to Tokyo, to see what trouble his son had conjured up this time. The lady Kamijou had smiled slightly at her husband's blusterings, in light of the fact that there had been little of anything, including "trouble." that had called his son to his attention since Hiroki had left home for the University at the age of eighteen.

After talking with her husband and updating him on their son's condition, Kamijou-san felt much more settled.

It was not that she was incapable of navigating the world, after all she had been running a household for decades and managing, to varying degrees, the two very difficult Kamijou men with a good amount of skill and grace.

Kamijou-san sighed into her cup displacing the steam with her breath. She grieved the distance she had with her son now.

_Not that Hiroki was ever what one would call a 'snuggly' child_. He had always been simultaneously a creature of passions and yet surprisingly contained and secretive, even from the time he'd been an infant.

After a few more slow swallows, with her tea finished, Kamijou-san moved over to the sink and rinsed out her cup and the tea utensils. Her mind and body were not prepared to rest yet after all the excitement of the day. So the lady decided to do a little exploring, hoping to find some more pieces to the puzzle her son had become.

Initially Kamijou-san confined herself to the kitchen, rationalizing that she might need to cook. Acquainting herself with the contents of her son's cupboards would be helpful.

The lady was surprised to see how well stocked and orderly the cupboards were. Peering into the refrigerator her experience was the same. There were a number of wrapped dishes and the food all looked homemade, no takeout.

Her brows rose at this revelation.

She wondered if maybe the two men had someone coming in to cook and clean for them.

_That would certainly explain things, and Hiroki could surely afford it. _

Then her eye caught sight of several cans of cold tea held in the refrigerator door. A furrow that was not at all out of place in that particular apartment formed on her youthful-looking brow.

She closed the icebox with a disapproving sniff. _Surely those must belong to Kusama-san._ She had difficulty imagining her refined son drinking something so common.

Looking up as she straightened, something tacked to the side of the refrigerator caught her eye. Reaching out, Kamijou-san extricated a photograph from under the panda magnet that pinned it to the appliance. She held it carefully as her dark eyes turned and rapidly scanned the rest of the apartment.

It was, she realized with a bit of a shock, the only visible photograph that she could see.

She was surprised to see it was a picture of her son and Kusama-san. They were under a cherry tree, obviously in a park. Both men's dark hair sported a sprinkling of fallen blossoms. They were sitting side by side on the ground. Kamijou-san's careful eyes noticed that the way they were positioned: the outside edge of one of each man's hands looked as though it was almost touching the other's.

Hiroki's mother cocked her head slightly as she studied the face of her son's roommate. He was looking directly into the camera and his whole countenance was radiating a delighted happiness. She noted to herself that Kusama-san had a lovely smile… genuine… she determined.

Then she turned her eyes to Hiroki. He was glancing away from both the camera and Kusama-san, his expression intense, brow lowered, and yet she immediately recognized the subtle crook of her son's mouth. This was the expression Hiroki made when he was immensely pleased with something and was trying hard not to smile.

Kamijou-san wondered what could have incited such pleasure in her boy that day.

She knew Hiroki had a poetic soul, but she doubted, even so, that falling petals would move him so greatly. Hiroki's mother traced a finger lightly over her only son's handsome face. She consciously bit back her tears, thinking about how close she had come to losing him and knowing that he was still not out of the woods just yet.

After carefully replacing the photo, Kamijou-san wandered into the sitting area, as if by this relocation she could evade her morose thoughts.

She studied the overlong pale-gray colored sofa, the shelves of neatly arranged books. She sat down hesitantly on the couch. It was quite comfortable but surprisingly deep. She speculated that the piece belonged to Kusama: it certainly matched his proportions.

She remembered the furniture she'd chosen for Hiroki's first apartment and wondered what had become of it.

She could still picture Hiroki's face when she'd arrived along with the movers and his things to his near-empty flat to help him settle. It was obvious at the time her impatient son could hardly wait for her to leave him, to get started on that exhausting journey called adulthood.

And yet, just when she thought he might explode, Hiroki had surprised her. After they had finished arranging everything and the movers left, just as she was getting ready to call her driver, he'd invited her to have a cup of tea with him.

It was no formal tea house, and yet he had hosted her with the same seriousness one would expect of a ceremony. She'd realized he was acting as the master of his new domain and she was now his honored guest. It had been a quiet time they'd shared, containing an element of the sacred.

When she had left she'd moved in for one final embrace in the privacy of his entry. Hiroki had taken her hand instead, clasping it tenderly before offering her a parting bow, then he'd stoically walked her down to the waiting car. She had left that day taking her boy away with her in her heart, understanding she had just left a man behind.

_A man, but what kind of man?_

Kamijou-san scanned the tidy front room again. She strained her ears and her eyes, almost believing that if she looked and listened hard enough she would be able to see Hiroki moving through this space, hear the things he said, the conversations he engaged in, the life he was living.

Her eyes dropped to the coffee table in front of the couch and she noticed the remote. She looked up and glared slightly at the large flat screen on the wall across from her.

Hiromasa had installed one in their traditional home three years ago. Not only did Kamijou-san find what it did to the aesthetics of her environment displeasing, but she felt as though since they'd acquired it their conversational life had suffered. Alhough she would reluctantly admit she occasionally turned it on during the day to following a particular romantic drama.

Dropping her eyes again and this time they fell on the stack of fitness magazines on the table.

Kamijou-san remembered finding something like that once tucked in the bottom of her son's school bag when he was about thirteen. It had not been the kind of reading material she expected Hiroki to possess: his tastes in periodicals, even as an adolescent, had always leaned more towards the scholarly.

Not to mention, when she'd glanced through it (maybe even more than once if she was honest - she had still been a young woman then, after all), she'd found herself thinking that some of images were rather provocative. She'd wondered at the time if it was wholesome for a boy Hiroki's age to be exposed to such hyper-masculine posturing.

When she'd asked him about it, Hiroki had turned bright red, which was not all that unusual, and had mumbled something about an article on a certain kendo master he favored. After that she had never questioned it when she had occasionally run across another one amongst her son's things.

Fanning out the magazines, Kamijou-san studied the covers. She shook her head, wondering once again where the nation of Japan was heading. There were also a few western issues, however, and these struck her as particularly more vulgar. Hiroki's mother re-stacked the thin, glossy texts.

Then she noticed two drawers in the side of the coffee table.

Kamijou-san crinkled her nose at herself, knowing that she was going well against good manners to be such a snoop in her son's home. Still, after just a moment's hesitation, she opened the first drawer. The lady wasn't quite sure what she'd hoped to find, but anyone who heard her sigh would have immediately detected a note of disappointment.

Inside were several gaming cartridges, discs for some popular anime, some action/adventure movies. _These must be Kusama-san's. Such low tastes._

Given this, she was about to close the drawer, when suddenly the flash of the cover on a title towards the back caught her attention. Pulling the drawer open further, Kamijou-san's eyes widened.

Pictured boldly on the front of the DVD's jacket were two attractive, nearly naked men, embracing each other and passionately kissing.

Feeling an uncomfortable heat creep into her cheeks, shyly Kamijou-san reached in to pick up the disc. She dropped it quickly back, however, when she saw what was beneath it. There was another video, its cover displaying two men in an even more provocative pose. Laying atop this a tube of some sort of personal lubricant.

Hiroki's mother shut the drawer sharply, her face a brilliant scarlet that would have rivaled any of her son's best blushes.

Kamijou-san may have been a sheltered, woman, but she was by no means stupid. She felt her cheeks burning even hotter with the realization that her son's roommate was homosexual.

Fanning herself with both hands, Hiroki's mother sat back further on the couch,. She wondered if Hiroki knew this about his housemate. Then she thought about the picture on the refrigerator, the hands grazing each other, her son's secret expression of happiness.

She felt a stone drop into the pit of her stomach.

"Dear heavens, not my Hiroki," she breathed.

Then her eyes fell on the other drawer. Though her better judgment warned against it, having opened one Pandora's Box, what would it matter to open another?

She reached with a trembling hand and slowly pulled out the other drawer halfway. It too seemed to hold DVDs and two titles were immediately visible.

Kamijou-san felt her tension ease just a little, seeing the first title was a documentary on Matsuo Basho, there was no doubt this was her Hiroki's drawer. The woman felt her shoulders straighten.

Her posture lost a bit of steel however, when she read the other title: _Madame Butterfly._

"It's an art film, of course. That makes sense!" Kamijou-san defended her son to the empty apartment.

Then her mind snapped a detail into place that had been niggling at her subconsciously since her exploration of the two men's bedrooms when she had first arrived.

She recalled Kusama-san apologizing to her at one point that afternoon about his state of dishevelment. He had told her that he had been sleeping when her son's senior at the University had called with concerns about Hiroki and that he had rushed from the house immediately.

Kamijou-san closed her son's drawer slowly as she thought about the crisp made bed in "Kusama-san's room" and the tangled sheets on her own son's _double_ futon.

The lady pinched the bridge of her nose. She suddenly felt exhausted.

"Maybe I should just go to bed now," she murmured. Kamijou-san rose stiffly and slowly made her way to her son and his lover's "guest room."

* * *

**Now, I don't expect to get a lot of reviews on this chapter… It's Hiroki's mom after all and I know you all are here to see the hot guys have their fluff and fuuuu…... Yeah, well anyway, even though it's not **_**man on man**_**, I would still love to hear from you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Homesick: Chapter Ten**

* * *

The next morning, as soon as she had awakened, Kamijou-san called the hospital for a report and was informed her son was stable and resting.

After receiving this news, she prepared herself for the day. Now the Lady Kamijou sat in "Nowaki's" room, lost in her morning prayers.

She'd made two circuits on her Buddhist prayer beads. The first rotation through was spent praying for Hiroki's health, the second she asked for guidance in how to handle the revelations of the previous evening.

A soft noise from the other end of the apartment broke Kamijou-san from her reverie.

Her heartbeat accelerated as the stirring in the other room continued. Hiroki's mother glanced over at the clock; it was still quite early. She had been up for hours. Sleep had not come easy to her or lingered long that night. Her mind had refused to rest.

In addition to the fact that Kamijou-san found the whole notion of homosexuality disagreeable, if not disgusting… If it was true, and Hiroki was involved with the man, Kusama, what would that mean for her family's future?

Hiroki was their only child. _What will happen to the family name?_

Kamijou-san felt a deep grief at this: she and Hiromasa had tried numerous times to start their family. According to the doctors, Hiroki had been nothing short of a miracle and the gods had never visited such favor on her again.

Though she knew her husband had been disappointed in this fact, as far as she knew, Hiromasa had never taken a mistress. Nor had he once ever spoken of divorce, unlike some other men she knew.

The image of the two forlorn Usami boys popped into her mind and she shook her head sadly.

Kamijou-san had been grateful that her husband thought enough of her to stand by her in such a way. And she had been eminently thankful for the blessing of their son.

Fear gripped the lady's stomach and her hands slipped automatically over the beads she held as she considered the disgrace a gay son would bring upon her household. Her chest tightened as she wondered if Hiromasa might not somehow hold her accountable for this defect in Hiroki's character.

_Will that drive him away from me at last? Will Hiromasa disown Hiroki and force me to shun my only son?_

Hearing the sound of water running in the kitchen she knew that Kusama-san had returned home from the hospital. She might have almost preferred a burglar.

The lady felt a slight warmth creep into her cheeks. She knew she should go out and greet the man, but the instant she imagined doing this, all she could see was that perverted DVD cover.

Only the two men embracing that flashed into her mind weren't the actors, but rather Kusama-san and her son.

Still, Kamijou-san was not one to allow her personal discomfort to overshadow her manners, and after all, she was a guest in the house_. _

_It's only proper that I pay the correct respects to my host._

She rose from the floor where she had been kneeling, swept the invisible creases from her kimono, stiffened her spine, and headed out into the apartment.

She emerged from the hall to find Nowaki in the kitchen. Given the noises she had been hearing, this was what she'd anticipated. What she hadn't expected to see, however, was the beautifully-arranged, traditional breakfast laid out on the dining table. Her eyes widened at this.

Nowaki stepped forward from where he had been standing behind the counter and greeted Hiroki's mother with a respectful nod. "Good morning, Kamijou-san," he said pleasantly.

The lady had been so taken with the spread she started slightly at the sound of Nowaki's voice.

She turned her eyes from the table to the man and found the heat rising quickly again to her cheeks as a new series of unwanted images ran through her mind. Still, Kamijou-san composed herself almost immediately, so that despite her pinked cheeks, her face was a pleasant mask of serenity.

"Kusama-san," she politely returned the greeting.

"I thought you would want to get back to see your son early, but I also thought you might like to eat something before you did."

She was hungry. She had eaten barely anything since Kusama-san's initial call about Hiroki. However, she was unsure how she felt about eating with this man she hardly knew and who had, apparently, taken up sullying her son.

Kamijou-san studied Nowaki covertly as she pretended to adjust her sleeve; it was a skill she had honed well over the years. Kusama obviously had not had the chance to clean up from the day before and his appearance was even scruffier than it had been even previously. This struck her as most disagreeable.

While Nowaki could hardly have guessed the full extent of the lady's discomfort, he was keen enough to sense her uneasiness.

"I apologize, Kamijou-san, I went ahead and ate earlier when I first arrived home." He hadn't really, but he imagined that she might not eat otherwise.

The lady Kamijou tipped her head slightly at these words and this time she studied Nowaki overtly. Despite his own unease, Nowaki was hard pressed not to smile, as this was a mannerism he'd often seen in his partner and discovering its origin delighted him.

"I also made a bento for you too. It's packed and in the fridge." Nowaki offered, stepping over to the instant kettle. "The food in the cafeteria is alright sometimes, but a fair amount of it is highly processed and I imagined, given the descriptions your son has given me of your expert cooking, that you would prefer something fresh."

Hiroki's mother started internally at the hidden praise in the comment. She realized the intern was much more sly than she had originally thought.

"That's very kind of you, Kusama-san. But you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble." Kamijou-san smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Still, she moved over to the table, but before she sat she asked, "So you do all the cooking for you and Hiroki?" The lady was wondering if Kusama-san was the "wife" of the couple.

If that was true, while she still didn't approve, the woman was surprised to find this notion somehow made the idea just a slight bit less mortifying.

Nowaki moved to the cupboard and extracted one of Hiroki's good teas, a blend that would accompany the breakfast well and was said to have reviving qualities.

When he stepped back to the counter and was facing Kamijou-san again he smiled. "Ah, no. We share almost all the household duties. Your son is actually quite a good cook too, though he doesn't like to do it unless he has a recipe to follow."

Nowaki's gentle smile grew a bit at this, recalling all the times he'd watched Hiro-san constantly checking his laptop as he rumbled around the kitchen.

He broke from this thought and straightened out his smile seeing Kamijou-san's raised brow. "Um, did he get his cooking skills from you, Kamijou-san?" Nowaki asked trying to distract the woman from her intense scrutiny.

The lady Kamijou sniffed. "_My_ Hiroki wouldn't set foot in the kitchen when he was younger unless he wanted fed."

"Ah… I see," Nowaki turned his attention back to the tea he was making. His shaggy brow hid well the slight furrow in his brow that had formed at Kamijou-san's possessive tone.

Hiroki's mother watched Nowaki make the tea.

Normally she would have insisted on doing it herself. However, despite Kusama-san's assertion that he and her son shared the domestic duties, she was unwilling to relinquish her desire to see Hiroki as the "man of the house."

Considering this, if this Kusama-san was going to then take the "daughter-in-law" role, it was only proper that he serve her.* Though she wondered in truth, how serious her son even was about this man, considering Kusama-san had said previously that they had not lived together for long.

She suddenly wished she'd listened to her husband's urgings years ago that they arrange a bride for their scholarly son, but she hadn't wished for anything to distract from Hiroki's studies. And if she was honest, she also hadn't wanted the wedge of another woman prying the distance between her and Hiroki wider than it already was.

Nowaki was going through the movements of making the tea particularly carefully. Hiro-san had mentioned his mother's formal training in the ritual to him on more than one occasion.

Kamijou-san's keen eyes noted his deliberation and immediately recognized particular motions. "Who taught you to make tea, Kusama-san?" she inquired.

Nowaki looked up. He picked up a cup and the small ceramic teapot filled with the tea and brought these over to Kamijou-san at the table. He poured the tea without misplacing a drop. "Your son taught me some of the finer aspects of tea preparation, Kamijou-san. He is a very good instructor."

"And how did you come to meet my son, Kusama-san?"

Nowaki moved back over to the counter to where his own filled cup sat. "He was my tutor. He helped me prepare for my equivalency and my placement exams."

Kamijou-san was shocked by this admission. If this was true then her son had known Kusama-san for some time, years in fact.

She could well understand now why Hiroki would have neglected to mention Kusama, but she suddenly wondered if it was possible that Aki-kun was aware of the situation? As close as he and Hiroki were she couldn't imagine otherwise.

_Why has Akihiko never mentioned Kusama_? A crease formed on Kamijou-san's smooth forehead.

It wasn't as if she could fault Akihiko for withholding that sort of information, really. That wasn't the type of subject that would have been appropriate for them to discuss. Somehow, though, she still felt disappointed in him for not giving her some kind of warning.

Kamijou-san studied her teacup intently. She was impressed by its quality, but that wasn't really what she was contemplating. "So you have been Hiroki's 'friend' for a while?" she asked, her tone significant.

Nowaki blinked at the question and then his face was lit by his usual warm smile. "Ah yes," he murmured, though he didn't elaborate further.

He picked up his own teacup and offered the lady another nod. "Please forgive me Kamijou-san, I hope you don't find me too inhospitable, but I have some reading to do. The chief pediatrics surgeon assigned me to look up a certain condition. And I should attend to that before I go to sleep. I have another job to get to in a few hours also.

"I hope you find the breakfast adequate and if you don't mind, just leave the things out and I'll clean up later. I imagine you're anxious to get back to the hospital anyway.

"I saw your son before I left and I am sure he would be happy to see you again soon too."

Kamijou-san's eyes widened a bit at Nowaki's last words and some of her iciness melted. "You saw him? He was awake? How was he doing?"

"Even on all the medications they had him on, he was still being stubborn," Nowaki offered this in his most reassuring tone.

This brought the first true smile of the day to Kamijou-san's face. As Nowaki took his tea and left the woman to dine in peace he couldn't help but think it was lovely. He just hoped that someday her face might hold such a smile for him.

Kamijou-san watched Nowaki disappear into Hiroki's room and close the door quietly behind him. Then she turned back to the table and surveyed the food spread before her with a frown.

Kusama was polite and thoughtful, but she still didn't approve of "that" kind of lifestyle. Nor was she going to be won over by a simple breakfast.

Still, looking at the food, she had to admit it she was very hungry now. Kamijou-san sighed as she picked up her bowl and chopsticks.

After she'd eaten, despite Kusama-san's offer that she could leave things, she cleaned up the table and rinsed her dishes. She called a taxi to pick her up, she didn't want to bother or wait for Akihiko. Besides, she wasn't ready to face him just yet either, in light of what she'd recently learned.

After this she made a quick trip to the bathroom to check and make sure she was adequately arranged to face the world. (She found the arrangements of the apartment, with the bath and the toilet together so disconcerting*)

Then she went to the "guest room" to gather her bag and her things. On her way out, she paused near the kitchen thinking about the bento waiting for her in the fridge.

She frowned at what the implications might be in Kusama-san's mind if she accepted it. "No," she decided and left the apartment, bento free.

As soon as he heard the front door close, Nowaki put down the medical text he was reading and sighed. He stood up and stretched before he headed to the bathroom. He would put the breakfast things away later, but right now he desperately wanted a shave and shower. He felt so grungy after all the disorder and hustle of the previous day.

Down at the curb it seemed to be taking some time for her taxi to arrive. Given this, Kamijou-san decided to call her husband and confirm when he would be arriving. It was only then she realized to her chagrin that her phone was missing.

_I must have set it down in the bedroom when I was gathering my things and forgotten it. So troublesome._

When the cab finally pulled up she instructed the driver to wait and then she headed up to the apartment once more to retrieve it, moving as quickly as she could while still looking regal. She was grateful she had taken the key that Akihiko had left with her.

Entering the apartment, Kamijou-san was pleased to encounter the quiet. She hoped that meant Kusama-san had fallen asleep and she could get her phone without seeing him again. She swept down the hall and sighed in relief to find her phone sitting where she'd left it on the dresser. She slipped it into her bag and stepped back out into the hall.

She was two-thirds of the way to the main room when unexpectedly, the bathroom door opened and Nowaki, dressed in nothing but a towel, stepped into the hall directly in front of her, a cloud of steam and sweet smelling shampoo billowing out behind him.

Kamijou-san stopped short, shocked not only by the man's sudden appearance, but by Kusama-san's physical appearance as well. For some reason, unclothed, his height seemed even more significant.

His lean limbs were tightly muscled, his chest pleasingly swelled, belly perfectly ridged. Kamijou-san stood in awe of the man's trim hips, a sensual curve of bone visible on one side where the towel dipped down. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the narrow hallway.

Seeing the sculpted contours of Kusama-san's lanky frame, Hiroki's mother suddenly wondered why Hiroki (if they were indeed his) would ever resort to looking at a fitness magazine, given the specimen that Kusama-san was.

A sudden heat filled Kamijou-san and the lady realized with horror that her sudden rolling warmth wasn't confined to just her cheeks.

Nowaki had been so absorbed in his thoughts, he hadn't heard Kamijou-san's quiet entry. He had stepped into the hall slightly blinded, a towel draped over his head as he rubbed the last of his shower's dampness from his dark head. He did, however, hear the woman's gasp.

At this sound Nowaki looked up and caught Kamijou-san's horrified expression. Before he could catch himself, he articulated a rare "Damn!"

He swept the towel from his head and held it over his chest in a manner that, given any other situation, would have looked amusingly modest.

"Please forgive me, Kamijou-san," Nowaki fumbled awkwardly as he tried to bow his way across the hall and into his bedroom. "I thought you'd left the flat for the hospital."

Kamijou-san had averted her eyes and raised a sheltering hand immediately, the moment she connected with Nowaki's startled gaze.

She lifted her head when she heard a slight _thunk_.

Nowaki had backed into the closed door of Hiroki's bedroom. He was still bowing his apologies, unfortunately the combined actions dislodged the tender twist of his towel and it slipped off his hips completely.

This would have been bad enough in itself, but Nowaki, even though he felt guilty when his Hiro-san was so ill, had been thinking about his partner while in the shower. He had dealt with the consequences of this there, but the effects of his recent release had not entirely dissipated. So Kamijou-san was treated to a far greater glimpse of the treasure that was Nowaki, than she would have been under normal conditions.

"Ah… by the gods!" Nowaki growled in mortification. Dropping the small towel over his chest down now to his groin with one hand as the other reached back for the knob. "Sorry… so sorry!" He muttered as the door finally opened and he was able to slip in closing it abruptly behind him.

Out in the hall, Kamijou-san stood stunned and crimson. Then despite her age and her station, she gathered the hem of her Kimono and scurried for the front door.

It was not just her embarrassment at the situation she was trying to outrun, but the myriad impure thoughts that had flooded her mind at the vision of a naked Kusama-san. The images of her encounter, however, followed her to that cab.

She was appalled to hear a soft voice inside her head say, _"Well, now you know at least one reason why your son would find someone like him so appealing."_

"Shut up!" she huffed angrily as she slid into the back seat of the car, ignoring the look of the startled cabdriver.

Upstairs, Nowaki was still leaning against his bedroom door, his lean sides panting with distress.

In all his fantasies about meeting his lover's parents and interacting with them, this was one scenario he had never… _ever_… envisioned.

His shower-warm flesh broke out in a sudden cold sweat. He found himself hoping unkindly that Hiroki might have to stay in the hospital for a bit, as he knew when the man was released Hiro-san would kill him for flashing his mother.

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**Thank you so much for the reviews, follows and favorites!**

**Okay… so next chapter… back to our dear Hiroki and Hiroki's dad will show up…. The fun will continue…**

**Now for this chapter's educational bits:**

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*** Mother-in-law- Daughter-in-law dynamics in Japan**

_One of the interesting things about the social dynamics within a traditional household is that perhaps the greatest amount of tension was between the role of the mother-in-law and the daughter-in-law. And if you think about it, both of them are people who were not born into that household; they are both strangers to the household. The mother-in-law of course in an earlier generation has had to go through the same process that the daughter-in-law is going through now, in order to become a full-fledged member. And so, in a sense you have two outsiders fighting with one another, or at least struggling with one another, to define their legitimate role within the household._

_But, even though they aren't born into the household, they are of course absolutely crucial members of the household. The wife's role, whether mother-in-law or daughter-in-law, is to be the manager of the household, to in many cases manage the finances of the household and so forth — an incredibly important and pivotal role in keeping the whole family enterprise going._

_Perhaps the most vivid symbol of this central role of the wife and mother in the household is a rice paddle — in Japanese called a shamoji — a kind of ping-pong-paddle-shaped bamboo implement that a woman would use to stir rice as it's cooking in a pot, and then would use to scoop cooked rice out into bowls and feed members of the family with. And at the point when a young wife, a daughter-in-law, had reached maturity, had proven herself to be a loyal and productive member of the household, and her mother-in-law was at a point of being willing to fully welcome her into the household, in traditional times they would have a ceremony at which the mother-in-law would ritually pass the rice paddle on to her daughter-in-law, signifying that she was relinquishing control of the household from one generation to the next._

**Quoted from afe . easia . columbia . edu/at/contemp_japan/cjp_family_**

_**The Mother-in-Law and Daughter-in-Law**_

_Most homes in Mamachi do not include a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law, but if they do, the difficulties between them are almost certain to dominate the family scene. In private conversations and in newspaper columns, the relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law is commonly recognized as the most serious problem facing the modern family.[__2__] Some girls agree to marriage on the condition that the husband make arrangements for his mother to live elsewhere. Some wives have pleaded with their husbands to prevent the mother-in-law from moving in. Some wives and mothers-in-law have tried to adjust to each other, but the arguments have been so vicious that they have been forced to separate. Some wives, who might otherwise be unhappy, console themselves with the thought that at least they do not live with their mothers-in-law. Yet, as much as they both try to avoid living together, the cost of setting up separate households combined with the limited financial resources, the filial feeling toward parents, and the lack of other satisfactory arrangements for elderly people sometimes leaves no acceptable alternative, especially when the young couple is just getting started or after the mother-in-law is widowed.[__3__]_

_In traditional Japan, the only hope of the daughter-in-law for success was to prove her loyalty to the mother-in-law by learning how to satisfy her every wish. Not only was it virtuous for a young bride to obey her mother-in-law, but it paid off in the long run. Only after proving her devotion could she hope to have the freedom to do things on her own. If she failed badly, she was sent back to her original home in disgrace. Divorces were commonly initiated not by the husband but by the mother-in-law. Some Japanese have observed that in America relations with the mother-in-law are a kigeki (comedy), in Japan a higeki (tragedy)._

_Compared to the problem of the mother-in-law, the problem of the father-in-law seems almost inconsequential. Because the salary man has no business connection with his father-in-law, there is no serious authority problem between them. The daughter-in-law generally has little problem with her father-in-law because he takes little interest in the home. Often there is a positive attraction between daughter-in-law and father-in-law, which is not entirely dissipated even though it is often dealt with by avoiding any situation where the two of them would be alone. Even when the father-in-law is harsh and demands that the daughter-in-law cater to his wishes, she generally finds this much easier to adjust to than the harassment of the mother-in-law._

_Although the wife would prefer to live with her mother than with her mother-in-law, if they live together the husband may have a power struggle with her mother, especially if the wife and mother give each other mutual support in resisting the husband's wishes or in making demands on him.[__4__] But the fact that he spends so little time at home restricts the scope of this conflict. Although the wife's mother usually has considerable authority and the wife sometimes resents being dominated, the positive feelings between mother and daughter are strong enough to bind their negative feelings. Especially if the wife has never lived apart from her mother, she feels dependent on the mother for advice and therefore readily follows her suggestions._

_But there is no such positive bond to control the wife's feeling of annoyance with her mother-in-law. If the daughter-in-law does make a serious effort to serve the mother-in-law and is able and loyal, she may at times be treated almost as if she were a daughter instead of a daughter-in-law. But if she is not very competent or comes from a family of lower status than the husband, she may still be treated more like a servant. But even the best relationships are strained, and the strain is likely to be especially severe if the mother-in-law is a widow and lives with her only son._

_Unlike the situation in traditional Japan, the critical problem in present-day Mamachi is not the harsh work load required of the daughter-in-law, but the lack of clarity of lines of authority. The mother-in-law has legitimate bases for arguing that the daughter-in-law obey, and the daughter-in-law has legitimate bases for expecting certain privileges. The ideal daughter-in-law is supposed to yield to the mother-in-law, but the ideal mother-in-law should not be harsh with the wife. In contrast to the situation in the United States, where the wife has primary authority, or to the situation in traditional Japan, where the mother-in-law had primary authority, there is no clear guiding principle. The object of the husband's primary loyalty is equally unclear. The answer to the traditional question, "Whom should a husband save if his wife and mother were drowning?" was "His mother" because he could always get another wife. Now the wife and mother are much more on equal grounds in competing for the husband's loyalty, and since there is no clear solution, the situation is one of continuing competition._

_Although the mother-in-law occasionally goes out, most of the day both she and the daughter-in-law are at home. The latter generally does the heavy work and the mother-in-law often performs the more complicated tasks of cooking and sewing. But there is no such clear way for dividing up authority. If, for example, the mother-in-law has no income of her own, it is not clear who should decide how much spending money the mother-in-law should have. Since each typically has few interests outside the home, it is hard for the mother-in-law to refrain completely from supervising her daughter-in-law. The latter, in order to avoid the mother-in-law's disapproval, is cautious about going out of the home, buying things for the home, preparing food, and cleaning the house. Even a mere question from the mother-in-law sometimes makes the wife anxious. It is not only the actual commands of the mother-in-law which create the difficulties but the daughter-in-law's feeling of being unable to run the house as she wishes. As some wives put it, they feel as if they are forced to live with an enemy in their home._

_The mother-in-law sometimes acts out her annoyance by being more critical and less willing to let the wife go out to visit friends, attend PTA meetings, or buy clothes for herself. The daughter-in-law may act out her annoyance by following the letter of the law laid down by the mother-in-law while defeating the spirit of the mother-in-law's wishes._

_The battleground for the dispute is often the children. The grandmother tries to enforce her wishes on the children and to encourage them to resist their mother. The mother tries to win the children to her side and subtly encourages them to disobey their grandmother._

_The wife fortifies herself for the struggle by keeping up with the latest information from newspapers, magazines, and books. She tries to keep up with the modern advice, and in discussions with the grandmother she relies heavily on "modern scientific information" to support her point of view and show that the grandmother is old-fashioned and superstitious. The grandmother typically respects scientific information, but sometimes suspects the daughter-in-law of manufacturing the things which she "read in a recent magazine." The mother-in-law relies on her superior experience and her moral conviction that because the daughter-in-law is joining her family, she should learn the family's custom (kafuu ). The mother-in-law, after all, knows her son's likes and knows what it means to rear children. Many a daughter-in-law, not confident of her own ability to please her husband or handle the children's problems, reluctantly yields to the mother-in-law's experience._

_If the husband supports either his mother or his wife against the other, his opinion is decisive, and in one way or another, the wife and mother frequently appeal to him for his support against the other. The husband, however, ordinarily tries to stay out of the dispute. He tries to play down the seriousness of the dispute, and to encourage each to be more sympathetic to the other. Only when the husband regards the situation as unbearable or judges one side as being particularly unreasonable does he take the initiative in settling the dispute by encouraging his mother to accept modern ways or the wife to be kind to the aged._

_The most commonly suggested solution to the conflict between the two women is for both to show reserve, and to contain themselves even when angry. Many advice columns include hints for how the two could adjust to each other, but the crux of the advice is usually another way for humoring the other one or a way for containing one's own feelings of annoyance._

_But the problem involves fundamental attitudes and status relationships. Like the Negro in the American South, the daughter-in-law no longer feels compelled to accept a subservient position. But the price of her emerging freedom is a breakdown of the old social order and an uncontrolled competition between her and her mother-in-law. The Mamachi daughter-in-law has not yet been granted complete freedom even in the most modern family, and a stable new order of relationships has not yet been established except for avoidance, a solution which is not always possible._

**Quoted from publishing . cdlib ucpressebooks/view ? docId=ft8z09p23r&chunk . id=d0e3527&toc . id=d0e3409&brand=eschol**

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***Japanese Bathrooms**

_In Japan the main purpose of taking a bath, besides cleaning your body, is relaxation at the end of the day. _

_The typical Japanese bathroom consists of two rooms, an entrance room where you undress and which is equipped with a sink, and the actual bathroom which is equipped with a shower and a deep bath tub. The toilet is almost always located in an entirely separate room. Though in many modern apartments now, for considerations of space, the toilet is also contained in the bathroom and the changing area is absent._

_When bathing Japanese style, you are supposed to first rinse your body outside the bath tub with a washbowl. Afterwards, you enter the tub, which is used for soaking only. The bath water tends to be relatively hot for Western bathing standards._

**This information quoted from: www . japan-guide . **


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